Nov 012017


All apologies to those who like the Bacardi Superior, Lamb’s White and other filtered, smooth, bland (dare I say boring?) 40% white rums in their cocktails, or who just like to get hammered on whatever is cheap to get and easily available – but you can do better.  For anyone who likes a massive white rum reeking of esters and funk and God only knows what else, one of the great emergent trends in the last decade has surely been the new selection and quality of white rums from around the world.  Almost all are unaged, some are pot still and some are column, they’re usually issued at north of 45%, they exude badass and take no prisoners, and in my opinion deserve more than just a passing mention.

Now, because aged rums get all the press and are admittedly somewhat better tasting experiences, white (or ‘clear’ or ‘blanc’) rums aren’t usually accorded the same respect, and that’s fair – I’d never deny their raw and oft-uncouth power, which can be a startling change from softer or older juice.  They aren’t always sipping quality rums, and some are out and out illogical and should never see the light of day. Yet we should never ignore them entirely.  They are pungent and flavourful beyond belief, with zesty, joyful profiles and off-the-reservation craziness worthy of attention, and many compare very favourably to rums costing twice or three times as much.

So let me just provide the curious (the daring?) a list of some white rums I’ve tried over the last years.  It’s by no means exhaustive, so apologies if I’ve left off a personal favourite – I can only list what I myself have tried. And admittedly, not all will find favour and not all will appeal – but for sheer originality and gasp-inducing wtf-moments, you’re going to look far to beat these guys.  And who knows?  You might even like a few, and at least they’re worth a shot.  Maybe several.

(Note: I’ve linked to written reviews where available.  For those where the full review hasn’t been published yet, some brief tasting notes. Scores are excluded, since I’m trying to show them off, not rank them, and in any case they’re in no particular order).

[1] Clairin Sajous – Haiti

If creole still haitian white rums not made by Barbancourt had a genesis in the wider world’s perceptions, it might have been this one and its cousins. In my more poetic moments I like to say the Sajous didn’t get introduced, it got detonated, and the reverbrations are still felt today.  There were always white unaged popskulls around – this one and the Vaval and Casimir gave them respectability.

[2] J. Bally Blanc Agricole – Martinique

What a lovely rum this is indeed.  J. Bally has been around for ages, and they sure know what they’re doing. This one is aged for three months and filtered to white, yet somehow it still shows off some impressive chops.  The 50% helps for sure.  Apples, watermelon, some salt and olives and tobacco on the nose, while the palate is softer than the strength might suggest, sweet, with fanta, citrus, thyme carrying the show. Yummy.

[3] St. Aubin Rhum Blanc Agricole Extra Premium – Mauritius

New Grove, Gold of Mauritius and Lazy Dodo might be better known right now, but Chamarel and St Aubin are snapping at their heels.  St. Aubin made this phenomenal pot still 50% brutus and I can’t say enough good things about it. It has a 1960’s-style Batman style salad bar of Pow! Biff! Smash!  Brine, grass, herbs, salt beef and gherkins combine in a sweaty, hairy drink that is amazingly controlled white rhum reminiscent of both a clairin and a Jamaican.

[4] DDL Superior High Wine – Guyana

Nope, it’s not a wine, and it sure isn’t superior.  I’m actually unsure whether it’s still made any longer – and if it is, whether it’s made on the same still as before. Whatever the case, Guyanese swear by it, I got one of my first drunks on it back in University days, and the small bottle I got was pungent, fierce and just about dissolved my glass. At 69% it presents as grassy, fruity, and spicy, with real depth to the palate, and if it’s a raw scrape of testosterone-fuelled sandpaper on the glottis, well, I’ve warned you twice now.

[5] Novo Fogo Silver Cachaca – Brazil

Fair enough, there are thousands of cachacas in Brazil, and at best I’ve tried a couple of handfuls.  Of the few that crossed my path, whether aged or not, this one was a standout for smooth, sweet, aromatic flavours that delicately mixed up sweet and salt and a nice mouthfeel – even at 40% it presented well. Josh Miller scored it as his favourite with which to make a caipirinha some time back when he was doing his 14-rum cachaca challenge. Since it isn’t all that bombastic or adversarial, it may be one of the more approachable rums of its kind that is – best of all – quite widely available.

[6] Neisson L’Espirit 70° Blanc – Martinique

Breathe deep and easy on this one, and sip with care.  Then look at the glass again, because if your experience parallels mine, you’ll be amazed that this is a 140-proof falling brick of oomph – it sure doesn’t feel that way. In fact there’s a kind of creaminess mixed up with nuts and citrus that is extremely enjoyable, and when I tried (twice), I really did marvel that so much taste could be stuffed into an unaged spirit and contained so well.

[7] Rum Fire Velvet – Jamaica

Whew!  Major tongue scraper. Massive taste, funk and dunder squirt in all directions. Where these whites are concerned, my tastes tend to vacillate between clairins and Jamaicans, and here the family resemblance is clear.  Tasting notes like beeswax, rotten fruit and burnt sausages being fried on a stinky kero flame should not dissuade you from giving this one a shot at least once, though advisories are in order, it being 63% and all.

[8] Charley’s JB Overproof (same as J. Wray 63%) – Jamaica

A big-’n’-bad Jamaican made only for country lads for the longest while, before townies started screaming that the boys in the backdam shouldn’t have all the fun and it got issued more widely on the island. Very similar to the J. Wray & Nephew White Overproof with which it should share the spotlight, because they’re twins in all but name..

[9] Nine Leaves Clear 2015 – Japan

If Yoshiharu Takeuchi of the Japanese concern Nine Leaves wasn’t well known before he released the Encrypted for Velier’s 70th Anniversary, he should be. He’s a Japanese rum renaissance samurai, a one-man distillery operation, marketing manager, cook and candlestick maker – and his 50% unaged whites are excellent.  This one from 2015 melded a toned down kind of profile, redolent of soap, cinnamon, nutmeg, apples and other light fruits, and is somewhat better behaved than its Caribbean cousins…and a damned decent rum, a velvet sleeve within which lurks a well made glittering wakizashi. (the 2017 ain’t bad either).

[10] Cavalier Rum Puncheon White 65% – Antigua

Same as the 151 but with little a few less rabbits in its jock.  Since the Antigua Distiller’s 1981 25 year old was review #001 and I liked it tremendously (before moving on) I have a soft spot for the company…which shouldn’t dissuade anyone from trying this raging beast, because in it you can spot some of those delicate notes of blackberries and other fruit which I so enjoyed in their older offerings.  Strong yes, a tad thin, and well worth a try.

[11] Rum Nation Pot Still White 57% – Jamaica

One of the first Independents to go the whole hog with a defiantly unaged white.  It’s fierce, it’s smelly, it’s flavourful, and an absolute party animal. I call mine Bluto. It’s won prizes up and down the festival circuit (including 2017 Berlin where I tried it again) and with good reason – it’s great, attacking with thick, pot still funk and yet harnessing some delicacy and quieter flavours too.

[12] Kleren Nasyonal Traditionnal 22 Rhum Blanc – Haiti

Moscoso Distillers is the little engine that could – I suspect that if Velier had paused by their place back when Luca was sourcing Haitian clairins to promote, we’d have a fifth candidate to go alongside Sajous,Vaval, Casimir and La Rocher. Like most creole columnar still products made in Haiti, it takes some palate-adjustment to dial in its fierce, uncompromising nature properly. And it is somewhat rough, this one, perhaps even jagged. But the tastes are so joyously, unapologetically there, that I enjoyed it just as much as other, perhaps more genteel  products elsewhere on this list.

[13] Toucan 50% Rhum Blanc Agricole – French Guiana

This new white only emerged in the last year or two, and for a rum as new as this to make the list should tell you something.  I tried it at the 2017 Berlin rumfest and liked it quite a bit, because it skated the line between brine, olives, furniture polish and something sweeter and lighter (much like the Novo Fogo does, but with more emphasis)…and at 50% it has the cojones to back up its braggadocio. It’s a really good white rhum.

[14] Rum Nation Ilha de Madeira Agricole 2017

Lovely 45% white, with an outstanding flavour profile.  Not enough research available yet for me to talk about its antecedents aside from it being of Madeira origin and “natural” (which I take to mean unaged for the moment).  But just taste the thing – a great combo of soda pop and more serious flavours of brine, gherkins, grass, vanilla, white chocolate.  There’s edge to it and sweet and sour and salt and it comes together reallly well.  One of those rums that will likely gain wide acceptance because of being toned down some.  Reminds me of both the Novo Fogo and the St. Aubin whites, with some pot still Jamaican thrown in for kick.

[15] A1710 La Perle

A1710 is a new kid on the block out of Martinique, operating out of Habitation Simon.  This white they issued at 54.5% is one of the best ones I’ve tried.  Nose of phenols, swank, acetones, freshly sawn lumber, bolted onto a nearly indecently tasty palate of wax, licorice, sugar water, sweet bonbons and lemongrass.  It’s almost cachaca-like…just better.

This list was supposed to be ten but then it grew legs and fangs, so what the hell, here are a few more Honourable Mentions for the rabid among you…

[16] Marienburg 90% – Suriname

This is Blanc Vader. With two light sabers. Admittedly, I only included it to showcase the full power of the blanc side.  It’s not really that good.  However, if you have it (or scored a sample off me) then you’ve not only gotten two standard proofed bottles for the price of one but also the dubious distinction of possessing full bragging rights at any “I had the strongest rum ever” competition.  Right now, I’m one of the few of those.

[17] Sunset Very Strong Overproof 84.5%)

The runner up in the strength sweepstakes. Even at that strength, it has a certain creamy delicacy to it which elevates it above the Marienburg.  Overall, it’s not really suited for anything beyond a mix and more bragging rights — because the hellishly ferocious palate destroys everything in its path. It’s a Great White, sure…like Jaws.

[18] St. Nicholas Abbey Unaged White – Barbados

This is another very approachable white rum, unaged, a “mere” 40% which blew the Real McCoy 3 year old white away like a fart in a high wind. Part of it is its pot still antecedents.  It’s salty sweet (more sweet than salt) with a juicy smorgasbord of pretty flavours dancing lightly around without assaulting you at the same time.  A great combo of smoothness and quiet strength and flavour all at once, very approachable, and much more restrained (ok, it’s weaker) than others on this list.

[19] Vientain Loatan – Laos

Probably the least of all these rhums in spite of being bottled at 56%, and the hardest to find due to it hardly being exported, and mostly sold in Asia. On the positive side is the strength and the tastes, very similar to agricoles.  On the negative some of those tastes are bitter and don’t play well together, the balance is off and overall it’s a sharp and raw rhum akin to uncured vinegar, in spite of some sweet and citrus.  Hard to recommend, but hard to ignore too.  May be worth a few tries to come to grips with it.

[20] Mana’o Rhum Agricole Blanc – Tahiti

Not so unique, not so fierce, not so pungent as other 50% rums on this list, but tasty nevertheless.  Again, like Rum Nation’s Ilha de Madeira, it’s quite easily appreciated because the 50% ABV doesn’t corner you in an alley, grab you by the glottis and shake you down for your spare cash, and is somehow tamed into a more well-behaved sort of beast, with just a bit of feral still lurking behind it all.

[21] La Confrérie du Rhum 2014 Cuvée Speciale Rhum Blanc – Guadeloupe

A hot, unaged, spicy 50% blanc, with an estery nose, firm body and all round excellent series of tastes that do the Longueteau operation proud.  It’s lighter than one might expect for something at this strength, and overall is a solid, tasty and well-put-together white rhum. La Confrerie is a quasi-independent operation run by Benoit Bail and Jerry Gitany and they do single cask bottlings from time to time – their focus is agricoles, and all that knowledge and promotion sure isn’t going to waste.

So there you have it, a whole bunch of modern white rums spanning the globe for you to take a look at (as noted above, I’ve missed some, but then, I haven’t tried them all).  

I used to think that whites were offhand efforts tossed indifferently into the rum lineup by producers who focused on “more serious work” and gave them scant attention, as if they were the bastard offspring of glints in the milkman’s eye. No longer.

Nowadays they are not only made seriously but taken seriously, and I know several bartenders who salivate at the mere prospect of getting a few of these torqued up high-tension hooches to play with as they craft their latest cocktail.  I drink ‘em neat, others mix ‘em up, but whatever the case, it is my firm belief you should try some of the rums on this list at least once, just to see what the hell the ‘Caner is ranting on about.  I almost guarantee you won’t be entirely disappointed.

And bored?  No chance.

Other notes

Consider this a companion piece to Josh Miller’s excellent rundown of 12 agricoles, taken from his perspective of how they fare in a Ti Punch.

Aug 162015

Want a rum that says a big FU to your opinion? Here’s one, and then eight more. 


It annoys me no end, seeing the same boring rundown of standard table rums extolled by journalists who don’t bother to do the most elementary research on what a good rum actually is, and make no effort to take the subject seriously.  Earlier in 2015, in response to yet another vanilla listing of same-old-blah-blah-blah-rums-you-should-try written by someone who “discovered” rums on a weekend Caribbean safari (or was that the one put together by a hack who only now realized rum was a drink worth checking out?), I asked rather peevishly why a list of crazy rums you’ve never heard about wasn’t issued by some enterprising writer for an online rag someplace.  After waiting around for a while, getting older, with no response, I realize maybe they were waiting for one of us real writers.  Oh. Okay. For my rag, then…

Note – just because they are listed here, does not mean I entirely love these rums…just that they are really at odds with more standard rum profiles. You can buy them, sure. However, let’s not pretend they’ll entirely be to your tastes. They showcase all the illogic and weirdness and wonderful breadth of rum, though, and there’s nothing at all bad about that.

1. D3S_1657Clairin Sajous

Come on, was this ever even in doubt? This friggin rum is utterly nuts, impractical to a fault, unaged, white and simply flat out amazing.  The Casimir and the Vaval clairins are sprigs cut from the same tree, and just about as weird. That gunpowder and wax nose, the amazing taste. Gave it points for sheer originality. 


D3S_89692. Rum Nation White Pot Still 57%

Jamaican badassery in a sleek sexy bottle. Pungent, strong and estery, Rum Nation took a deep breath, threw the dice, ran with it, and I think it paid off.




3. SMWS 3.4 Barbados 10 Year Old

All right, I admit it, this is tough to find even if you’re a member of the SWMS. And not that many of it were made.  But heavens above what a great, snarling, amazing rum for its strength.  It got the highest score I ever gave a drink that powerful. Wish I could find the “Marmite” 3.5.


D7K_12984. La Occidental Guayabita del Pinar

Leaving aside the issue of whether this Cuban softie is a rum or not (I said it was), here is one of the few flavoured rums I ever tasted that I liked…perhaps because it is made differently rather than having spices chucked into it like Emeril was having a bad hair day.  It remains (somewhat to my surprise) one of the most re-visited posts on this site. I wonder why.


Cadenhead5. Cadenhead’s Classic Green Label Demerara 12 Year Old

The peat is strong with this one, I grumbled when I sampled this rum, and still don’t care much for it.  Whatever. If you ever wanted to see a the result of a tussle between an Octomore and Port Mourant, here’s your chance.  There are many anoraks who swear by it, mind you.



bundie6. Bundaberg Reserve

Quiet, all you there in the peanut gallery. I know that Bundie is seen as a balm to exiled Aussies, and a butt of constant jokes from, about and by the residents of Oz.  The question is not whether you like it neat…more of what a rum can be when it takes not a sharp left turn, but a hundred and eighty about-face, and then smacks you a good hard one on the schnozz. Honestly, I think it’s more tequila than rum. Still, you can’t deny its originality, and you’ll not mistake it for many others.


D3S_68467. BBR Fiji 8 Year Old

The one Berry Bros. & Rudd rum I didn’t care for. Was like a paint thinner, unbalanced, weird to taste, and a rum that can only be approached with head-scratching, jowl-quivering perplexity, wondering how a minor god does not rise up and smite it stone dead.  That said, I felt that way about it because it simply, defiantly, obnoxiously said “I shall not conform to your expectations of me.”  That alone might warrant a taste or two.


D3S_90748. JM 15 Year Old

I’m still coming to grips with what exactly was it about this rum that made it so memorable, so strange, so intriguing.  It was off-kilter, sure, but not batsh*t crazy different…just enough for me to keep it in my taste memory bank and recall it with bewilderment from time to time, still, after all these months, trying to pin down its haunting and elusive weirdness. Yeah, I liked it.


clark's9. Clarke’s Court Pure White Rum – Bush Variation

You will never find this rum in the bars of the east or west or anywhere except its own squat. The already odd white pot still rum was added to by some enterprising bushman-wannabe in Grenada, who cheerfully dumped in bark, twigs, berries and a plump worm (I kid you not), and then sold it to my crazy friend in Toronto.  And mad as this may seem, all that crap made the rum even better.  Every time I see myself starting to get snooty about additives in rum, here’s one that jogs my memory and makes me laugh, and realize that sometimes, it isn’t all a bad thing.


A postscript: I do not necessarily recommend that you go after these rums just because I’ve written about them (or because you have a kink in your own mind that such rums would appeal to).  What I am saying is that they are rums which go their own way; have a screw loose somewhere; they do not adhere those more familiar tastes to which we are accustomed.  Some are good, some not so much, at least one is just a rampage of laughably ridiculous insanity, and all are absolute blasts to drink.  

Now that’s how a list should be written, dammit.

Jul 222015

Severin Simon


Germany has a number of home-grown rum makers out there.  Oh, they’re not world beaters by any means, but in a country that never really had any tropical colonies, no real culture of rum, no background in sugar cane production, it’s surprising to find any at all. And I’m always curious about these relatively small companies – after all, some small ones become big ones through sheer blending skill and mastery of craft bottlings and great word of mouth, right? Maybe this will be one of them, who knows, let’s take a look, I always tell myself. And let’s never pretend that a background in making other spirits does not have its positive side.

I’ve looked at two other German companies’ rums before (Old Man Spirits and Alt-Enderle), and today I’ll turn my attention to Severin Simon, a small distillery out of Bavaria, which has been, in one form or another, open for business since 1879. Severin Simon made and make gin, schnapps, brandy and whisky, and are now turning their attention to rum, which kicked off into high gear when they installed new distillery apparatus in 2012.  As with the other two companies mentioned above, their primary market remains Germany.

An interesting point of their production methodology is that they use fair trade organic molasses deriving from the Dominican Republic: Tres Hombres ship it to Germany in their sailing ship, and I appreciate that Severin Simon doesn’t use industrial grade alcohol and tart it up to make a throwaway paint-stripper.  Ageing is done in oak barrels made of local Spessart oak, some of which have been charred, some not. Two of the three rums I tried were aged eighteen months, and the current 2015 crop of rums is edging to just over two years, with single-cask and longer aged, higher-proofed rums on the horizon.


Valkyrie (“Nordic”)

Notes – Pale gold. Pot still. Aged for 18 months in new barrels whose staves and floor were hand toasted.  Non-chill-filtered.  No additives or inclusions.40% for 0.5 L, costing ~€53

Nose – Sharp, even thin. Too much oak here.  Leather, smoke, caramel, some vague dried fruits and rosemary.

Palate – Light to medium bodied.  Unappealingly raw.  This thing should be aged more, I think.  Maybe it’s that local oak used in the barrels. Some raisins, dried prunes, plums, burnt sugar.  Water doesn’t help. It’s that smokiness, the sharper tannins of the oak, asserting too much influence.

Finish – Short and dry. Musty leather, charcoal-fire smoke, raisins and some toffee and caramel, all over rather quickly.

Thoughts – Should be aged for another few years, which I believe is the intention anyway. Given the price tag, do they consider it their premium rum? It’s complex enough, and a decent rum, just too much smoke and ash, not enough of the other stuff I enjoy. Plus, the sharpness needs some toning down, I think.



Bavarian Sweetened Rum (“Kalypso”)

Notes – Colour: amber. Pot still, flavoured rum.  Aged about two years. Darkest rum of the three.  40%, costs ~€48. Simon Severin noted the rum has 50g/L sugar.  Points to them for not dissembling on the matter.

Nose – Why is this thing so spicy at 40%? Oh, okay, it dies down after a few minutes.  Massive and simple taste bomb, this one, mostly vanilla and mocha, with prunes and some raisins at the back end.

Palate – Medium bodied. Spiciness of the nose gives way to thicker warmth. Sweet and redolent of more vanilla, raisins, coconut shavings, molasses, brown sugar, and red cherries in syrup. If you know what you’re looking for (or have good comparators) you can tell this is a young rum, still too uncouth in spite of the inclusions, which help mask – but not eliminate – a lack of well-cut underlying base distillate.

Finish – None too long, nothing special. Mostly more vanilla and some caramel here. Some lemon zest, if you strain a bit.

Thoughts – I’ll stick with unflavoured rums.



Royal Bavarian Navy Rum (“Königlisch”)

Notes – Colour: light amber. Two-tier solera system rum, molasses based, oldest component aged eighteen months.  Initial distillate from pot still. Dark straw coloured, 40%. Around €35.

Nose – Rather whisky-like, salty, oaky and herbal.  Smoothest of the three, which may be damning it with faint praise.

Palate – Medium bodied. Citrus emerges from out of the musky background; smoke and woody notes, not altogether masking some burnt sugar, salty caramel and black olives.  Rather spicy, turns arid after a while.

Finish – Short and dry.  Fennel and toasted walnuts, some non-too-sweet toffee.

Thoughts – To my mind this one is – by a narrow margin – the best of the three, and the cheapest.  The absence of clearly identifiable sugar inclusions, and the eschewing of charred barrels somehow allows a shade more complexity to sneak in there. It’s a toss-up between this one and the Valkyrie for those who like their smoky background more.


Summing up

Like Old Man Spirits and their interesting – if ultimately not quite successful – Uitvlugt 16 year old, what we have here is a company still finding its legs in the rum world. Pot still and molasses source notwithstanding, a few more years and tweaking their cuts, ageing profile and barrel selection, and they’ll really have something here.  I’d like to see if they ever come out with a white rum made from cane juice…have a feeling the Spessart oak they use would work some interesting effects there.

Let me just close by repeating something I’ve said before – you have to give points to people who actually make a product and jump through all the hoops to get a company off the ground in a field like rum, in a highly regulated region like the EU; and who provide employment and pay taxes and contribute to the larger rum world. I always and sincerely wish these outfits well, no matter what my rating of their products might be.

May 132015





Although a huge market for cachaça exists in Brazil where it is the national tipple they sometimes call pinga, very little of it makes it to other countries in comparison to agricoles (let alone more popular molasses based rums). For rummies, it’s something like an undiscovered country. A cane-juice-based spirit, it has certain basic similarities to agricoles and has been referred to as a type of brandy, of the aguardente family.  Cachaças are often unaged and like clairins in Haiti, run the gamut from underproof to overproof drinks, and are often bottled clear. I should mention, however, that many aged varieties of cachaça do in fact exist – the three I look at below are examples – but it seems like they stay in-country for the most part. I should also point out that Brazilians don’t worry overmuch about sourcing oak barrels for their aged versions, and just as easily use local woods – and that gives them profiles that are unusual to say the least.

With the increasing interest in cane juice rhums, and a simultaneous uptick in all-natural spirits, cachaça may be due to have its exposure grow. Certainly Bert Ostermann, the man behind Delicana out of Germany, feels that way.  He has been producing cachaças for many years now, always with small sales primarily in Europe.  When I met him in 2014, he was exhibiting his 5 and 10-year old products, and I tried all three he had, which were so new that he didn’t even have labels for them yet (he got some by the time the Fest ended, and those are the ones in the pics below). Unfortunately, ebbing time and the many more rums to sample did not permit me to get into the history of his company, or his production techniques — so aside from noting their source in sugar cane juice distilled in a pot still and production in the state of Minais Gerais Brazil (just north of Rio), I can’t tell you much more until he responds to the email I sent a few weeks ago, or the message I left for him on FB.

With that paucity of information, I decided to just run them together as a single essay on the tasting notes, the results of which are below.

Delicana 10 Year Old Balsamo – 40% blonde spirit, aged in Balsamo wood.

  • Nose: Light and clear.  Vegetal. Fresh stripped cane stalks.  Peaches. Sugar water, cinnamon, faint whiff of white flowers and sap from a cut banana plant.
  • Palate: First guia was untamed and raw.  Anise, licorice, lemongrass and fresh lime zest. Opens up into some more unripe firm green fruit like mangos.  New-mown grass.  Very little sign of the ageing I’m used to…hard to believe this is a 10 year old.
  • Finish: Short. Grassy notes mixed up with banana peel
  • Thoughts: Not unbalanced, per se…just untamed. Ten years of ageing seem to have done little to smoothen this one out, and it could easily be mistaken for a much younger product. But not an entirely bad one.


Delicana 5 Year Old Jequitibá – 40% clear spirit, aged in Jequitibá.

  • Nose: Holy <bleep>. Enormous for a 40% rum. Salt and pepper…a lot. Unripe green apples. Spicy, coming in just short of sharp.  Like licking an iron bar.
  • Palate: Hot, yet once you get over that, it mellows well. Clear metallic tastes predominate at the inception; saltpetr, firecrackers and gunpowder explode in the mouth and then disappear; some salt butter, black olives, more pepper. I can honestly say I’ve never tried anything like this. Tried it three more times, with and without water, same result.
  • Finish: Medium long, more salt, and pimento-stuffed olives in brine
  • Thoughts: points for originality and texture, but that initial taste really threw me.  Maybe not a drink to have pura.


Delicana 5 Year Old Umburana (artesinal premium) – 40% blonde spirit, aged in Umburana (or Amburuna)

  • Nose: Nice, remarkably gentle after the first two. Vegetal, apples, some grass in there, all pungent and deep. Some musty cardboard (seriously!)
  • Palate: Soft, easy-going, warm to try. Cinnamon, marzipan, then emerging tastes of olives and green grass, lemon juice and some creamy salt butter; sugar water and a whiff of plasticine and rubber. Brine kept in check here.
  • Finish: long and sweet, a little bite at the back end from a vagrant citrus peel; better than the Balsamo.
  • Thoughts: Best of the three (for my palate, anyway).  Bert and I tried all three together a second time, and as far as he was concerned, I had it bass ackwards, and the Balsamo was definitely better.



As I also remarked in the Clairin Sajous write-up, these are rums not for everyone.  They are very different from most, partly because of the aforementioned ageing in Brazilian woods that imparted such distinct and unusual tastes to each one. That alone might make lovers of traditional rums (whether mixers or sippers) cast a dubious eye on these, or relegate them to cocktails like the famous caipirinha.

I liked them for their originality, but overall, as a person who generally drinks rums neat, I can’t pretend I cared for these to the point where they become must-haves on my shelf…Brazilians with differently adjusted palates would probably vocally and violently disagree.  So if you’re curious, you should try them yourself, especially since they are all quite affordable. Also, having tried many caipirinhas over the years, I can enthusiastically recommend them that way, at least. After all, Quanto pior a cachaça, melhor a caipirinha, right?

Sooner or later I’m going online and ordering a bunch of the Boys from Brazil, that’s a given; I’m on a bit of an agricole kick right now, though, so it’ll have to wait. For the moment, these three micro-reviews give some inkling of what’s in store for those of us who venture into Brazilian waters to see what white kill-divil lies in wait to ravish our palates and liquify our kidneys.

Other notes

I was about halfway into writing this essay when Josh Miller of Inuakena pipped me with his excellent little series where he briefly compared not three or five or even ten, but fourteen separate cachaças, all from different companies (from the perspective of whether they made good caipirinhas).  So hats off to the man, and if your interest in Brazilian cachaças has been piqued, go right over to his short and informative comparisons.


Mar 192014



These three rums are aged curiosities. There’s one from the 60s, and two from the 70s. Information on their origins is maddeningly obscure. The labels are crap, and the corks aged and faded and cracked by decades of rough handling. There’s never been a review of any that I was able to find, and their makers are likely long gone. Yet these three bottles exist, and if for no reason than their history, I review them here, make what remarks I can, score them as best I’m able.

Italy in these days is no stranger to rums, of course. Fabio Rossi of Rum Nation is the name that springs immediately to mind, and Campari recently bought the brands of Appleton and Coruba. Yet in rum’s heydey of the forties and fifties, there were many small outfits that matured their own stocks and brought out limited craft spirits to tempt the palates of those living La Dolce Vita. Some of these were real spirits of the kind we know and enjoy today, but many were what were called “Fantasy rums” – products made from caramel syrup with industrial alcohol, to which various herbs and spices (and in other cases young Jamaican rums), were then added. They were used for baking additives, pastries, or even as digestifs, not so much as sipping rums. They certainly don’t taste like molasses based products.

This to many purists, and according to modern EU rules, disqualifies them from being called rums, and they share similar DNA, then, with Tanduay, Stroh and Mekhong – they edge close to the line without ever quite stepping over it. As before with those examples, I’ll call them rums just because they’re labelled that way and to give them a home.

Anyway, knowing all this, what are they like?


  • Rhum Fantasia “Stravecchio” Masera 1974
  • Bottled by Seveso Milan
  • Amber coloured, 40%

Nose: Much more of a rum profile than the other two. caramel, brown sugar, peaches and apricots – nice. Soft on the nose, very easy going, with hints of vanilla

Palate: Pleasant and gentle on the tongue, no real spice going on here: medium bodied, a little dry. Vanilla comes out punching, without being overwhelming. Caramel and burnt sugar dominate the taste at the beginning, and then give way to peanut brittle. A shade salty, even buttery, with a pleasant background of walnuts and crushed almonds

Finish: Short. Doesn’t want to piss you off. Toffee and nuts on the close, without lasting long enough to make an impression.

Final score: 80/100


  • Tocini Fantasia Rhum 1976
  • Bottled by Tocini Company
  • Brown black with ruby tints, 40%

Nose: Slightly sharp, heavy on red/black grape wine; tons of fruit aromas – prunes, blackberries. Reminds me a lot of grappa. Some chocolate, apples, apricots. Licorice comes through after it opens up. Pretty good sniffer, nice and rich.

Palate: Reasonably smooth to taste, a little spicy, not much – medium bodied rum (really love the colour). Loads of licorice – may be too much for some. Back end notes of vanilla and some blackberries, but they’re subtle against the black stuff, which doggedly holds on as if scared to let go.

Finish: Pleasant enough, once the licorice fades out. A bit rough and then stays for a long goodbye, with vanilla and brown sugar notes making a belated appearance.

Final Score: 82/100


  • Pagliarini Rhum Fantasia from the 1960s
  • Bottled by Pagliarini Distillery, Municipality of Romani di Lombardo
  • Dark ruby red, 40%

Nose: Thin, striking nose of red cherries, red grapes, and somewhat herbal, like freshly mown wet grass. No real rum profile here: would rate it higher if it had more oomph. Really taste the additional flavourings…pomegranates, some ripe oranges, more cherries, sorrel.

Palate: Soft and round on the tongue, provides comfort without anger. That redness reminds me of sorrel, and so does the taste: plus added notes of fennel, rosemary, cherry syrup. Damn but this is sweet, and not with brown sugar notes either – in fact, this has the least “rum-like” profile of the three. It’s a bit too much sugar: no driness or ageing evident here, and that sinks it for me.

Finish: will o’ the wisp, disappears the moment you look for it, much like the Cheshire Cat; though, like that feline’s grin, it retains a smile of sweet cherry syrup and rosemary to see you on your way home. Blink and you’ll miss it.

Final Score: 79/100


At end, it’s unlikely these rums will be easily acquired or even sought after – I may actually have bought among the last bottles extant (and given their shabby state when they arrived, that wouldn’t surprise me). They have been overtaken by other spirits that taste similar and don’t call themselves rum. It’s likely that I paid the price I did because of their age and rarity, which is fine ‘cause I’m interested in the subject and was curious — but if you’re a fanatic about these matters and prefer a more traditional rum profile, I’d suggest you only try any Fantasias that cross your path if you can get them for free. It’s an expensive indulgence any other way, especially if they’re as old as these, and you may not like them much.

Unless of course you’re baking with them, in which case, avanti!



Closing note: Thanks to Luca Gargano of Velier, Cyril of DuRhum and Fabio Rossi of Rum Nation, who very kindly provided background information I used to write this article.



Mar 312013


Here is another in my ongoing series of “favourite” lists.  This one focuses on the premium segment.


Make your enemies green with envy, please your friends, impress wannabe hangers-on and have an all-round good time with these expensive rums that will cheerfully excavate your wallet.  Mix not required, and what the hell, ditch the ice as well….you don’t need that either.  I know this is spouting Liquorature heresy, but I think even some maltsters might do well to sample some of these. Yeah Hippie, it’s you I’m lookin’ at.

This posting is meant to list (in no particular order) some decent rums that I thought were worth the hundred dollars or more yet two hundred or less which I paid for them. It’s not a “best” list (that would be futile).  It’s a list of rums that if you knew a bit about rums (and that you liked them), were looking to try sipping quality hooch, wanted to get something out of the ordinary and felt you needed to splash out the cash for a favoured relative or friend…well, you could use this as a reference on where to start.

Of course, once we move into (and upwards past) the three figure price range, a reviewer has a problem, because not every rum costing that much is actually worth it, and opinions vary widely as to what the perfect rum profile truly is – what to one person is a particularly fine example of the craft and worth every penny, is savagely put down by another who despises the very bottle that embraces it.  So, a note of caution.  The higher in price we go, the more objective price and perceived value diverge (this principle is exemplified in the US$5000 Appleton 50 year old).  In no case does the higher price confer practicality or utility to the average Joe, who’d get to work through morning rush hour just as quickly in his Ford as in a Ferrari. After all, I didn’t think the $300 Santa Teresa Bicentenario was worth it, and I know for sure the G&P 1941 58 year old Longpond, on a quality basis alone, doesn’t rank the four figures I shelled out – I could have gotten as much enjoyment out of a Potters, and probably better conversation.

We pay high prices for many reasons – status, narcissism, rarity, exclusivity, quality, angels share losses, or labour manhours that must be recouped by the makers (look no further than the St Nicholas Abbey for an example).  In that sense, uber-rums are something like precision swiss watches: you’re paying a premium for meticulous work (sometimes) done by hand over a long period (and, of course, brilliant marketing), irrespective of how the final result comes out – a Timex would tell more accurate time…it just doesn’t have the cachet of an Audemars, a Patek, or a Rolex.  And that too is part of the reason we pay so much.

I should also point out that at this level of expenditure, you’re absolutely within your rights to demand a better packaging of the product.  If you can blow more than a hundred bucks, why skimp at an extra few that the maker throws in for neat presentation?  Consider the sleek sexy bottle of the Mount Gay 1703, or the etched flagon of the St Nicholas Abbey 12.  Hell yes I want a great look to go along with the great price. Just about all my malt-swilling buddies disagree with me, but on this one I honestly think they’re barking up the wrong tree. When my Breitling chronograph arrives, I’d like it in a leather wrapped box, thank you very much, not a paper bag.

The rums I write about here are drawn from my experience of tasting them every single week for almost four years; my own personal preferences, and what I have been able to sample and find and buy in Canada – and more importantly, what I like.  Your mileage may vary, your availability and cost will almost certainly be otherwise, and you may disagree with the worth of any.  Let that, however, not stop you from trying these lovely products if you can spare the money and can find them.

(NB: All prices are Calgary Can$ and are correct for the amount I paid at the time)


St Nicholas Abbey 10 year old ($145) – ever since I had this one, I’ve made no secret of my liking for it. The 12 year old could be on this list as well: my opinion is simply that  the ten somehow gets it all righter and correcter — and is a complex, well rounded sipping rum that should be tried at least once. Apparently, you can get a 1/2 price refill of your bottle right at the Abbey, and get your name etched on it as well. Hmmm….

English Harbour 1981 25 Year old ($188 but trending above $200 these days). One of my all time top five, and the first review I ever wrote (shows by being the shortest too). I’ve never fallen out of love with it, and have given away at least four bottles to date…since two have gone to Central Asia to rave reviews, I may have the dubious distinction of being single-handedly responsible for turning an entire nation’s tastes away from vodka to rums as a consequence.  Well, I can dream, right?


Clemente Tres Vieux XO ($126) – I know this will surprise some, as I marked it down for a certain spiciness I felt was out of place in a product marketed as premium. Oh but that fruity burnt sugar nose, that fade…it’s just grown on me over the years.

Ron Millonario XO Reserva Especial ($110). Not everyone will like this rum, as it may edge too close to the sweetness and borderline liqueurishness of the El Dorado 25. I respectfully disagree. It’s a smooth, complex, well blended rum whose fade just keeps on giving.  Given a choice I’d buy three of these rather than one of the ED25. It is also, in my own estimation, better than both the Zaya 12 and the Zacapa 23. No, really.

mount gay 1703

Mount Gay 1703 (~$130).  I had to go back to this one a few times to appreciate it more – and although I won’t change my original review which honestly represented my feelings at the time it was written, there is no contesting the overall balance and convoluted taste profile of the rum. A shade spicy, yet mellow on the nose and dark on the finish, redolent of burning sugar cane fields smouldering in the tropical twilight.

English Habour 10 year old ($105) – this just barely made the cut in price terms: not that it’s cheap on what counts, mind you, and neither should it be overshadowed by its bigger, better known and more expensive sib.  It has a zen quality all its own. A solid, excellent all round rum.

Rum Nation 1985 Demerara 23 year old ($165). Fabio Rossi, take a bow.  In no uncertain terms, an Italian outfit takes on the big guns of the Highlands and takes its place among the boutique rum-makers. Big, flavourful, odd, smooth, dark, tasty and a tad rubbery, somewhere Batman is weeping into his cape with envy.

Rum Nation Panama 21 year old ($103).  What?  Another one?  Accidente a me, what are those Italians doing?  Ladies and gentles all, this rum is superlative.  Rum Nation somehow managed to get rid of the slight feinty notes that some will despise the Demerara for, and replaced it with raisins, dried fruit, leather and tobacco and an admirable driness that lifted my spirits just by sampling it. Could be stronger than 40% and still be superb.

Secret Treasures Demerara 14 year old: ($100 in Euros). This rum explains why I want to move back to Europe.  A Swiss concern named Fassbind has produced an enormously excellent dark amber rum with a nose, mouthfeel and finish that had me drain the bottle in labba time, and have to snatch it away from my mother’s grasping fingers after she was on her fifth shot and almost lost her teeth in the glass.

Rhum Vieux Domaine de Courcelles Grande Reserve 58% (~$180)
Although this hails from the French Caribbean island of Guadeloupe, I hesitate to pronounce it an agricole (and the bottle sure doesn’t either)…it has a depth of taste and texture that strikes me more as a pot still product based on molasses.  Certainly it’s an awesome drink, if you can find it, though some might prefer it’s tamer twin (same age) bottled at 47%.  Not me. It’s amazing how the bite of 58% has been tamed into this excellent rum.


Closing notes.  So yes, I have not included the Appleton 21 (about which I’m unenthused), or any of the Plantation rums nor the Renegades (the last two are not widely available for purchase in Canada, I don’t have anyof the former and too few of the latter, and so cannot speak to them).  I probably missed one of your personal faves.  Sorry. And I know for sure that many superior rums available in Europe are not to be found on my shelf or in my local liquor emporia.  That’s my (and our) loss. Still, I’ve been at this for going on four years, and the subject remains fascinating and of interest, I still fork out for the privilege of sampling and reviewing, and I know there’s more out there that will eventually come this way.  Consider this list to be a complement to those already written, and one of others to come.

And enjoy the rums.  The products are pricey, yes – but they have worth that cannot always be measured in mere pieces of eight.

Mar 312013

(First posted December 2010)


Christmas is right around the corner, and soon, if not already, we’ll be having hair of the dog, doing the hearty party and drinking to excess on every possible occasion on our best friends’ dime.  We’ll be buying gifts, attending bashes and often will be tasked with chosing a decent rum for our West Indian friends or rum lovers in general.  What can we buy that is the perfect match of decent quality but won’t bust our slender wallet?  Here’s a list to get you started (in no particular order, and with Calgary prices).

1. Captain Morgan’s Private Stock (~$40). Simple, not complex, rich and dark, with a slight spice hint and more than enough sweet.  What classifies this as a sipper’s intro is the remarkable body and mouthfeel. Good way to get into higher priced premium rums. It’s easy to bash the Captain, but this rum is worth it, I think.

2. Young’s Old Sam Demerara Rum (~$26). I didn’t really care for this at first, but it grew on me.  A mixer not a sipper, it’s got powerful taste of burnt sugar, molasses and caramel that will perk up our cocktail for sure, and the cheap price means you can buy several, in order to double up on our enjoyment.

3. Cruzan Single Barrel Dark (~$45). Bloody brilliant rum: dark, silky, smooth and with tastes in great harmony, you can use this as either a sipper or a mixer and still have a great time.  Great for Grampy.

4. English Harbour 5 year old (~$28). Regular readers here will know that Liquorature went pretty nuts over this premium mixer. Soft, pungent, lightly spiced, its flavour simply explodes in a cola.

5. Tanduay Superior 12 year old. I don’t know the price of this Phillipine product in Western markets, but the local price there is dirt cheap, and man, is this one stellar rum for its price. Slightly dry, slightly sweet, with a great smooth finish and a lovely dark body. One of the best in its class.

6. Old Port Deluxe Rum (~$35). A new arrival from India, tawny, medium bodied and delicious. I liked it neat, but take it any way you want.  Decent, well priced and bang for your buck. According to the hippie, the Amrut Fusion produced by the same distillery in Bangalore ain’t half bad either.

7. Havana Club Cuban Barrel Proof (~$45). Golden, twice aged in differing oaken barrels, and smooth as all get out, with a taste and feel at once complex and long lasting. Damn this is good. Fill my glass, and pronto. Twice.

8. Bacardi 8 year old (~$40).  It’s considered an easy target for ridicule, but then, everyone hates the big kid on the block. Underservedly so, in this case, because this dry, well aged golden rum is a cut above the ordinary, a great body and flavour profile, and just enough of a whisky driness and lack of sweetness to broaden its appeal among the Maltsters as well as the Caners.

9. El Dorado 12 year old (~$45). Oh man, Guyana knows how to make ’em. Heavy, dark, solid rum with a smooth fade that redefines the midlevel rums. I’m a fan of the 15 and 21 year old, but this one is a worthy younger sibling, believe me, in spite of the backstretch burn.

10. Bacardi 151 (~$35).  Fine, it’s an overproof with a muzzle velocity off the scale, but you know what? It isn’t half bad after you pick yourself off the floor, roll up your tongue, locate your rapidly dissolving nose and find your face.

I cheerfully concede that these are selections from my limited reviews thus far, and others will have their own opinions.  Well, let me know that they are…there are fifteen hundred rums in the world, there are gonna be others worthy of the name at a price we can all afford.

Have a great holiday season.

Mar 312013


Inspired by the amazingly refreshing (and original) website andabattleofrum which has a world cup of rums – well worth a look for sheer inventiveness and style – I decided to implement an idea that both that site and the ongoing whisky range tastings on have done so well.

Having sampled the Flor de Cana 5 and the Juan Santos 5 at the same time, I resolved to make a go of two other five year olds in the larder, and run all four through their paces to see how they stacked up against each other: after all, trying them individually was one thing, but if I rated them all at the same time, would the scores change?  Now there was a challenge to the scoring system.  And anyone who has associated with me and my rum work for any length of time knows the despite in which I hold the whole business of scores to begin with, so perhaps I should try and see whether it was as consistent as I claimed it was.

Flor de Cana 5 year old

Nose: Faint rubbery notes coil among the darker flavours of caramel and burnt sugar and fleshy fruit. Spicy, yet not overpoweringly so.
Palate: Heavy bodied (competes manfully with the El Dorado), dark sugar notes with pineapple and peaches.  Quite dry and medium sweet. A shade harsh
Finish: Medium, heated finish with some softer billowing caramel and nutty flavours.
Assessment: Overall, it failed somehow.  On its own I ranked it at 76 points…here I didn’t think it did all that well.

El Dorado 5 year old

Nose: Dark, rich brown sugar.  White flower notes, caramel, slight molasses. Became almost creamy as it opened up.
Palate: Yummy.  Heated, a shade sharp. Arrived with burnt sugar and caramel nuttiness, just enough sweet.  Deep, dark, unshashamedly rough bushman of a rum, yet quite excellent for all that.
Finish: Long and lasting, with faint closing notes of almonds.
Assessment: The epitome of younger Demerara style rums, and a credit to DDL. This is like the rambunctious first born in your family, an A-type for sure.

Angostura 5 year old

Nose: Grapes, fleshy fruits, peaches. Strong heated nose redolent of burning canefields
Palate: A medium bodied melange of vanilla, burnt brown sugar, caramel. Thick and almost chewy, yet spicy and containing a certain grace as well.
Finish: long and lasting with a closing aroma of caramel
Assessment: Aggressive, forceful and straightforward, yet lacking some of the uncouth brawny cheeriness of the El Dorado.

 Juan Santos 5 year old

Nose: Light and delicate, yet heated spirits tickle your nose. Fruit and vanilla notes so well balanced it’s almost impossible to pick apart.
Palate: Gently assertive, extremely mild…barely passes the “is this a rum?” test at all, since none of the notes one would expect out of an entry-level  rum – the molasses, brown sugar, toffee etc – are present.
Finish: long, a shade brny, and quite dry, with almost no flavours poushing past to provide closure.
Assessment: passive aggressive problem child who prefers never to speak up in class

General conclusions

Having gone through this exercise and gotten quite high doing it, what were the results and how did they stack up against my posted scores?

Well, not too bad.  Side to side rankings came up with this result:

Last was was the Juan Santos,third came the Flor, second the Angostura, and first (somewhat to my surprise) came the El Dorado 5.  Scores in my reviews bore this out: in order, 74, 76, 77 and 78, and all variations came in nose, the palate and finish, with little difference in the intangibles.  So all in all, I see this as an initial  vindication of the system, if you could call it that and however miserly it might be.  Other rankings of this nature will inevitably follow because I feel (as others do) that tasting single rums in isolation can be a sterile exercise, and gives no reference baseline which a multiple sampling would enhance.

Just as a side note, I really am impressed with Angostura’s product.  It has real character and a certain elemental brutality about it that I liked a lot…two point separation or not, it is in many respects on par with the El Dorado, which perhaps supercedes it in just that slight smidgen of smoothness and depth that pulled it ahead.

Anyway, please note that (of course) these scores reflect my tastes, not necessarily yours.  You will undoubtedly have your favourites, as I have mine, and concordance is unlikely.  And this is without even considering how many five year old rums out there, of which this is a miniscule sampling at best. That said, have fun trying them out anyway. I know I did.

Oct 042012

As has now become a pleasant routine every six months or so, I attended the second Kensington Wine Market Raucous Rums tasting of 2012 on Thursday 4th October, and as has also become my habit, I brought along a guest. Previously, before my rum-loving friend The Bear bailed for the Maritimes (for his health and a better job he claims, but I think he was just tired of Calgary weather), he and I made it a point to always go together. What has happened since his departure is that I always buy two tickets, and ask someone to come along with me. On this occasion it was Gordon “Pogo-san” Pogue, whom I had converted to the dark side about a year or so ago at a now-legendary rum-soaked jerk-chicken cookoff, when he (to his own everlasting astonishment I’m sure) realized that top end rums were…well, utterly fantastic.

There’s a sort of comforting routine to these tastings, which vary little from occasion to occasion. The ill-named host “ScotchGuy” (yup, I have to comment on this every time I write about KWM’s Raucous Rums) always has the glasses all poured (not Glencairns, alas), welcomes everyone, has his powerpoint dissertation on the history of rum ready to go (complete with the odd photo from Liquorature), and as always, there are new faces, different faces, all interested and curious and enthusiastic. Last time there was a cheerful crowd of Chileans that caught my eye; on this occasion a group of four beautiful ladies off to the front, a well dressed couple in the middle, and what I later came to know as a father-son tag-team together with Pogo-san and me in the rear. Snacks were low key and tasty and as you can imagine, I nibbled the evening through.

These days, I take a perverse kind of sneaky delight in trying to anticipate what Andrew would present on any given evening. I must confess to being a little ahead of most attendees, since I have been involved in these tastings for three years now (not really as impressive as it sounds given there are two a year versus maybe fifteen or so for whiskies) and since I knew he had some new variations in, I had a sense of what would be on offer. Can’t always bet on that, though: sometimes we get new stocks not yet available, like the Rum Nation series back in 2011; on other occasions it’s older wares that aren’t moving off the shelves and about which we are reminded, like the Santa Teresa Bicentenario. And sometimes Andrew just happily mixes it all up and simply puts out a series he thinks would be interesting (I occasionally get asked for a suggestion). I think he takes delight in pulling a fast one on me.

As before, the six rums were blind. Andrew had us nose and try the first rum right away before launching into the presentation. Gordon sniffed and wrinkled his nose. The light toffee-coloured rum stung the schnozz a little, and had a slight smokiness to it, toffee craminess and some vanilla, perhaps bananas, trending towards the floral. “Caramel and burnt sugar,” he opined “Maybe flowers, some fruitiness.” “Bananas?” I asked, hoping to get a confirmation. He sniffed, tasted and nodded. The two gentleman at our table tried it but didn’t offer an opinion, and with five more to go, I couldn’t blame them. I suspected this was a Bajan rum because of its soft nose and them bananas, but it was also a little more spicy than I recalled from Barbados products…I thought it might be the Mount Gay 1703 (the XO is a shade harsher than this one).

Moving on, Andrew answered a few questions from a more-than-usually vocal audience (I always like that since I’m a firm believer in audience participation), remarked that he would have liked to do a country-specific tasting one of these days (not on this occasion, but maybe soon…) and launched into the presentation, and then we tried the second rum, which was darker, gold, with a shade of red. “Nice,” I said, and it was. “How do you think it compares?” “Oh better than the first for sure,” replied Gordon. “Spices, nuts, fruits on the nose. Chocolate on the taste.” That lined up with what I thought, and mentally added roses and some winey notes, marzipan and molasses as well.

The older gentleman at our table, Michael by name, looked over at us. “You’re obviously an aficionado,” he said. “Me, I couldn’t tell the difference between one rum and the next like that. Love rums, just don’t dabble very much on the farm.” I smiled and said “Yeah, but you could probably tell one cow from the next just by asking its name and checking the pats, right?” We all laughed. “Yup,” he confirmed. “Smell the poop and know its state of health right away.” I liked him on the spot.

“Well, I’m going to suggest this is a Rum Nation product, maybe the Jamaica 25 or the Demerara 23, more than likely the former,” I hazarded, little knowing the hole I just dug for myself. But I did like the rum a lot. It was heated, yes, spicy without doubt, yet also earthy and softly flavoured, with a long finish I enjoyed.

Moving on to rum number three, a dark mahogany coloured lass. Oh this was just fine, I thought, nearly having an attack of the vapours myself. This one was awesome: breakfast toast and chocolate on the nose, a creamy, soft arrival with a balanced taste of fruits, molasses, pecan, apples. Oily finish, deep and long lasting and did this rum ever love me. “Comments?” asked Gordon, wanting to know which one I thought this was. “I honestly don’t know for sure,” I had to admit. “The only rum I know that’s this good at 40% is the St Nicholas Abbey 12 year old.” But would Andrew trot this $200 baby out, having already done so in a previous tasting? Maybe. “I guess I’ll hang my hat there,” I concluded, however doubtfully.

If I thought #3 was good, #4 ratcheted the ante up a shade. Rusty, dark rum, almost El Dorado-like. A nose of licorice, plums, dark dried fruit, and a lovely winey background on arrival. Smooth, heated, warm, with an arrival redolent of freshly sawn lumber, biscuits and a shade of cinnamon. “You know,” I whispered to Michael and Gordon and the other younger gentleman with a magnificent King George beard I secretly envied (his name was Colin and he turned out to be Michael’s son), “I honestly think this is the 25 year old Jamaican Rum Nation, but that cedar hint makes me wonder whether it isn’t the Longpond 58 year old.” “How can you tell?” asked Michael. “It’s those cedar notes that are the problem…that’s what I get from the Longpond, but if this is the J25, then Rum #2 has to be something else,” I grumbled in confusion – the others were enjoying my discomfiture.

The deep gold of Rum #5 concealed a nose of real power. Man, this sucker stood up and biffed me on the hooter with rubber, plasticine and wood, big time, devolving into floral notes as it settled, and a slight minty background. The arrival was strong and powerful: brown sugar, caramel, toffee, soggy biscuits, fruity notes…and a strong woodsy scent of cedar. “Okay,” I said, sure at last. “This one is the Longpond 58 year old. The cedar is too clear and the rum is too strong to be anything else.” “You sure? So what does that make #2 and #4?” asked Colin. “Still on the fence about #2,” I was forced to admit, “But #4 should be the Jamaican 25.” “Why are you so sure of this one?” asked Pogo-san. “Well, Andrew advertised it would be one of the selections, and I know he has it because I lent him my bottle.” I laughed. “Damn but this is strong. It’s like a porn star on a performance bonus…the finish just won’t stop.” (I was quoting one of my own reviews, to be honest). Colin and Michael could barely contain their laughter, and so did the rest of the crowd when Andrew repeated it.

Andrew had some nice things to say about the Liquorature site – I imagine our table’s relatively talkative crowd was drawing some attention and he wanted to explain why my name occasionally popped up in the presentation – and then we moved on to the last rum of the evening

Well, if I thought #5 had cojones, I was utterly unprepared for Rum #6, which was the lightest rum of the tasting. Holy crap but this was stratospheric. Glue, PVC, plastic, spicy as all hell. And then the flavours started coming: grapes, fruits, wine, mint, acetone. And a finish that simply would not stop. “Porn star?” I gasped, reaching for the water, “This thing is like a rampaging rhino on crack,” and that just dissolved the table. We were certainly having a great time over in our corner. This was like school days, where I constantly “ketch lash” for talking in the back while “Sir” or “Miss” was lecturing. “This, without doubt, is the SMWS Longpond 9 year old 81.3%, guys. Tread lightly or you’ll really get hammered.” And of course I took another sip.

As usual, we were asked to rank our #1 and #2 rum of the evening and the big reveal was as follows:

#1 was the Renegade Rums Barbados 2003 6 year old, bottled at 46%. Nobody picked this as either their #1 or #2. Hey, I got the country right, didn’t I?

#2 was (to my extreme embarassment), the Renegade Rums St Lucia (I forget the year). I excuse my inexcusable gaffe here by noting that although I have it, haven’t gotten around to doing the review on it. Yeah, sure. 2 people picked this one

#3 was picked by 13 persons, and it was the Panamonte XXV. Another rousing failure by your not-so-humble reviewer to discern the difference between a superlative Bajan product, and one from Panama. This was my own #3 pick of the evening.

#4 Yeah baby: I thought it might have been the 58 year old but then settled on the J25, and so it was. My #2 pick of the evening

#5 On a roll, I correctly assessed the 1941 Longpond 58 year old for what it was. When I can get around to saying which cask it was (#76 in this case) and what year it was bottled (1995), then I can call myself a true expert, but until then, I’ll take the kudos I can for merely identifying it. My #1 choice of the evening, but only one other person concurred

#6 And yes, this was indeed the behemoth of all rums, the 81.3% Longpond 9. No way I could mistake that. Would you believe that three people were mesmerized enough (or battered into insensibility by its mere prescence) to choose it as their first or second fave? Good for them. “They probably drink cask strength whiskies on the side,” I muttered. “I like whiskies a lot,” noted Colin, breathing a little hard. “But I’ve never had one like this.” Gordon concurred after exhaling gently. I imagine he was searching for his tonsils in Albania.

Not the most artistic photo of a lineup I ever took…blame it on the Longpond 9

And that was that. I am going to award myself 3½ points out of six – three correct guesses and one half mark for at least figuring the country right, as if this somehow means something.

But you know, it’s all a guessing game, and what of it if I get it wrong? — these things are fun. I always meet interesting people, I always have a good time, always find something new. The evening was given an even better fillip by having such a great vocal, questioning set of participants (not least of which were the four pretty ladies in the front and the well-dressed couple a table over). And I met Michael Monner and his son Colin, who graciously allowed me to use their names in this review, and hailed from a small town called Milo, just SE of Calgary (“Mike Monner from Milo” I said, rolling that around “…that sounds too cool to be true.”). Not surprisingly, given Mike’s appreciation for rums, I think I’m going to have him over or pass by Milo to see him one of these days, and bring some of my own stocks for him to try. I’d like to think my good squaddie Pogo-san enjoyed himself, will come once more if I ask him, and once again, I’ll be waiting for the next one to see what good stuff our host has to surprise us with on that occasion.

Having written this, I have a feeling I may go back to give that Longpond 9 another try: I’m having trouble falling asleep you see…

See you next time.


Sep 272012
The Raucous Rums of the evening

Tuesday 27th September 2011 was one of those days in which I participated in an event about which, even though absolutely nothing went terrifically wrong, I have mixed feelings: of both appreciation and disappointment.  I speak, of course, for the few of us who were there and know whereof I speak, of KWM’s second rum tasting event, rather euphemistically termed “Raucous Rums.”

I suppose by this time I should come to terms with the fact that we Lovers of the Cane are second class citizens n the spirits world.  I can’t speak for the vodka lovers, since most are Slavs or flavour-of-the-month-tipplers with all the insecurities and arrogance this implies; and cognac aficionados, brandy sippers and those who drink other relatively marginal spirits all speak to the excellence of their own preferences, however minor the sales of their preferred hooch may be on the world stage.  But I can’t help but feel a little aggrieved: the first rum tasting session had had somewhere around 20 people in it, with six very decent rums to be tried; this time, a mere seven months later, though eleven had signed up, only nine attended.  And yet the various whisky tastings around the city are doing great guns with loads of people crowding the stores which host them.  Like I said, I feel rather, well, second class.  An emperor penguin in a sea of elephant seals.

The “Scotch Guy” makes a point about rums

But there you have it.  The world is the way the world is, and having observed this, I shrugged my shoulders, comforted myself with the fact that rums are excellent value for money and no opprobrium is attached to (what to others is a shameful act of) mixing the low-enders; and the lack of appreciation for the extract of cane merely keeps prices down.  I should be grateful.  Disgruntled, maybe, but gratified nevertheless

As before, the Bear and I attended together, he being the only rum aficionado I know in cowtown who likes them enough to really make appreciating them a hobby (as opposed to buying a few different Bacardis and an Appleton, and saying he’s a “rum lover”).  Andrew Ferguson, who for such nights should really drop that inappropriate moniker of “The Scotch Guy,” started matters off at seven pm, and didn’t waste time with a blind testing this time around, but showed us front and center what he had on the table…some eight rums in all, with a possible ninth to come (if we wuz all good pickney and behave weself).

Showing he had polished up his speakers credentials in the intervening nine months, he didn’t give us the whole spiel and presentation of rums first, but a little at a time, interspersed with the rums about which he spoke – which was definitely a good way to go about business.

Much to my pleasure, the first two rums were recent favourites of mine: the St. Nicholas Abbey 8yr old and 12 year old.

The first 4½ rums

The 8 had a sweet nose of apples, fruit and caramel, light and somewhat floral; on the palate it was spicy at first, but mellowed like a blushing bride, presenting flavours of vanilla, apples and citrus, tempered with oak.  Short and smooth finish with just a brush of spice to remind you it was an eight year old, not quite housebroken yet and still had some rambunctiousness and dotishness left in its DNA.

The 12, made from the remains of the highly rated (by me) ten year old, was still a dark, deep, warm rum that only got better as it opened up.  Heavy, rich, dark and creamy nose, it mellowed even further into a lush and warm rum about which I simply cannot say enough good things. On the palate you get dark molasses, liquorice, pecan and nary a hint of oak.  Smooth as velvet.  Every time I taste this thing I feel like a Victorian paramour swooning over his lady love while spouting atrocious verse.

The remainder of the rums came from a relatively young outfit,  Rum Nation.  Details about the company and its antecedents and modus operandi will have to wait until I can both do more research and snag some of their products for real.  Suffice to say, this is the rum division of the Italian whisky bottler Wilson & Morgan, and founded in 1999 as the emergence of independent bottlers of premium rum gathered steam (following on the unheralded success, I suspect, of the El Dorado line of DDL from the early nineties). Rum Nation products have been around for a while, of course – various reviewers have been waxing rhapsodic about them for years – and finally they are coming to Alberta (or so Andrew says).

RN Panama 18 year old.  Eighteen year old to start with?  Holy age statement, Batman, is this for real?  It’s a 40% rum which it was unclear was blended or not – whatever the case, it came from one distillery. Nose assaulted with a Muscatel reek that was somewhat shocking after the soft and genteel gentlemanly sophistication of the St Nick’s 12, and reminded me of the Legendario.  Mellowed into tobacco and fruity hints.  Palate – nice.  Not overly sweet, smooth and fruity, with  a slightly salty tang and traces of tobacco and leather. Not entirely sold on this ‘un myself, but it’s so smooth that I want me a bottle.

RN Martinique “Hors D’Age”.  A 43% beefcake wannabe agricole, which normally would turn me off since I think most agricoles are simply too lacking in body (my opinion).  Light, pale appearance, like a white wine, and a nose to match; presents scents of fennel, liquorice and fruits.  Palate of nutneg, cinnamon, orange and liquorice, a tad dry – it really is more like a cognac than a true rum.  Short and spicy finish – did not rank high with me overall.

RN 12 year old Anniversario.  Shared my Number 1 spot with the St. Nick’s 12 and the Demerara 23 year old.  It’s from Martinique, again 43%, and 12 years old, issued to celebrate RN’s 12th anniversary (duuh).  Nose is coganc-like, sweet, smooth, soft and grapy, with traces of dark citrus and tangerine.  The taste was phenomenal: soft chocolate, fruity caramel, fruits, nuts and candy and breakfast spices.  The texture was clear and light for such seemingly heavy flavours, yet none overwhelmed the other, and all somehow remained in balance.  Finish is long and lasting.  Awesome product, nicely done, in a box I like a lot.

~60% of the audience. Who’s the Bear in this picture?

RN Solera No. 14.  An odd nose of musty grapes, ginger and liquorice, soft and billowy and smooth on this one, and it opened up into dusty molasses and brown sugar.  Continuing its right turn on the palate, it arrived with a salty tang, caramel and a trace of nutmeg.  Very whisky like, smooth and spicy at the same time, with the oak coming forward to assert its prescence firmly.   Short and dry fade.  It’s instructive to nose this rum and immediately go back to the Panama 18 year old for a wild contrast…the muscatel from that one disappears entirely and is replaced by the sweet tobacco of a good briar pipe.

RN Jamaica 25 year old.  I must admit this was in many ways the most original (I don’t say the best) rums of the night, not merely because of its age.  I inhaled the scents of (seriously) tire rubber at the start (wtf?) which faded and were replaced with the smells of autumn that remind me of the leisurely walks I used to take in Berlin and London when the days grew cool and sharp, and ravens perched on fences to preside like mourners of the demise of summer.  Fallen leaves, damp earth and a cooling nip in the air that always makes me vaguely sad. Fleshy fruits and heavier floral hints round out a soft nose.  Yet the palate is caramel and lighter fruits (apples and green grapes), merging with a delicate hint of tobacco.  Fade was smooth and long lasting, and while this wasn’t the best rum of the evening, I think I’m going to try and get this one also when it arrives.

RN Demerara 23 Year Old.  Yup, I have a soft spot for the old country.  So what?  When a rum like this arrives, you have to give it kudos, and with it, it’s clear that Rum Nation is looking to do what Bruichladdich is – to take rums in a direction, and along avenues, not previously considered. A 23 year old 43% with a surprisingly pleasant nose made up of notes you wouldn’t think could come together well – baked biscuits a bit soggy in rain, musty tobacco and aged leather, like a laird’s stable, perhaps…a weird hint of of rubber.  It arrived as a solid, dark, just-sweet-enough savoury rum, carrying traces of caramel and orange peel.  It was so well constructed and balanced that it was hard to pick out anything else. Brooding, dark and slow finish that just didn’t want to go.  What a great rum this was. It shared the pedestal for the number one spot in my estimation, and yes, I’m gonna get me one of those as well.

Lastly, to approve of the fact that we were all such a spiffing bunch of chaps, liked what he had offered and hadn’t burdened him with any snarky questions he couldn’t answer, Andrew came out with the ninth rum: a Juan Millenario Reserva Especial from Peru, and the second solera of the night.  Sweet, light and fruity nose on a amber coloured rum.  Surprisingly thick and shade too sweet on arrival, I would judge, but nevertheless a pretty good rum with a reasonably long lasting finish.  I didn’t jot down the details of what years make up the backbone alas.  I thought it was a pretty decent mid-level rum nevertheless.

Let’s just review this line up as a whole.  Three makers and six countries were represented (that might be more variety than the audience composition).  Leaving aside the first two and the last one, it was clear that the core of it all was the aged Rum Nation products.  I’m not altogether sold on making a rum tasting comprise of rums to come so that marketing and word-of-mouth can be drummed up for future sales – but then, I’m a reviewer and a buyer, not a business, and so my focus on such matters would have been to introduce others to the variety of the top enders — to make them appreciate the quality and effort that goes into rums that are out there.  And indeed, this is what I do in my own house when friends express curiosity (and on every Liquorature night that was ever mine to host).  If I had to make any kind of generalized comments beyond that, it would be to note the odd sulphury notes in some of the RN rums (which comes out as a rubbery aspect of the nose), as well as the feinty and woody/tobacco scents.  This is somewhat unusual and may turn some people off – myself I found them intriguing.  St Nicholas Abbey, of course, I had tried already and perhaps I learned to appreciate the 8 yr old a bit more than formerly.

Dale’s excellent snacks didn’t last long

So there you have both my appreciation and my disappointment.  I mourn the lack of rum lovers in my city, when so many great brands are available (and I honestly believe this province may have the best selection in the country).  And I’m a shade miffed that we basically only had three makers’ selections (two, really) on display when we could have gone with more variety.  A Renegade or Cadenhead or AD Rattray selection to leaven the crowd might have been nice.  But then, I’ve tasted a fair bit of rums on my own, and so I may be just a bit elitist in arguing for breadth.  For the crowd that was there, for the rums that we had, all I can say is thanks to KWM for not only putting on a show with some real top end rums, but for having the second one in one year – and they didn’t stint on what they put out.  Oh yeah – and thanks to Dale whose catering of the snacks was first rate and (as with all good stuff) not enough.

Now if only The Scotch Guy could turn into the Rum Dude in the future (at least until midnight, when he turns back into the pumpkin of the malts) then my Glencairn runneth over, so to speak.  But then, I’ve been known to let optimism get the better of me, so I’m not holding my breath. In the meantime, I’m gonna look forward to the next one.


Update 2013: by now, all the rums tasted here reviewed and on the site.  It was on the basis of this tasting that I bought the entire line of Rum Nation which Andrew had, and I think it was a good buy.

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