Dec 202024
 

Once again we are visiting India, to look at a rum made by the world-famous whisky producer, Amrut Distillers. The story of this remarkable company has been told already so I won’t rehash it here — but it behooves us to note that for all the ballyhoo about its whiskies (for which it is mostly and justly famed), Amrut has been making rums for far longer, dating back to its initial  establishment in 1948. Also, in a departure from Mohan Meakin (of Old Monk fame), Amrut did not descend from a British-run company from colonial times, but was and remains entirely home grown.

In years past I have looked at two rums from the company – the Old Port Deluxe, and the Two Indies rums; however, this was many years ago, and as I lurch obliviously into doddering and drooling dotage, my memory fails sometimes, so I’ll revisit those — or their current iterations — soon.  Today, however, we’ll fill a small gap in the minimal company rum stable, and review the Two Indies White, which I found at the 2024 Paris Whisky Live — this edition was issued in 2023 —  displayed with a complete lack of fanfare off to the side of more famous whiskies, on the ground floor booth of the company.

“Two Indies” is a moniker given to show off the rum’s antecedents from distillate produced both in the India (the east Indies), and the Caribbean (the west). The white rum is made somewhat at right angles from the two Two Indies variants, original and Dark, which both have at least three Caribbean components (Jamaica, Barbados, Guyana) to add to the Indian part. This one has some Jamaican rum – the distillery is never mentioned – added to a blend of Indian made sugarcane juice rum and jaggery-based rum. 

The source of the juice is the Bangalore facility where the company HQ is also located, from cane grown in their backyard, and the jaggery1 is sourced from India’s sugar city of Mandya, SW of Bangalore. All three parts are pot still distillates, which, after being made, are blended and aged for a short eight-months-to-one-year period in ex-bourbon casks. And, as is usual for India, it’s released at 42.8%, which is the Imperial 75 proof from colonial times that was never abandoned.

Although I’m sure the intentions were well meant, the rum noses as thin and weak. Initially one can sense candy floss and marshmallows, plus some light white fruits (pears, watermelon, papaya), some sweet coconut water, leavened with bananas, caramel, and some lemon zest. Behind all that are wisps of vanilla, cinnamon and cardamom, which one has to really strain to notice at all. One wonders where the Jamaicans are hiding, because weren’t they there to provide some oomph and kick and attitude?  Doesn’t feel like that at all. And the distinctive aggro of a pot still product is decidedly muted (if not absent altogether), which is disappointing, to say the least.

This general sense of puling wimpiness pervades the palate as well. The website and promo materials talk about a “herbaceous” and “vegetal” profile, which I ignore, because it certainly doesn’t taste that way. Oh, we have some easygoing pears and guavas, an intriguing series of notes that channel fresh Danish cookies and pastries, and a light set of spices, but the crisp grassy notes of a true agricole are not in evidence. On the contrary, it’s underpowered and the profile suffers for that; this thing needs to be stronger, otherwise the whole thing, including the finish, is like unsatisfying coitus — brief, barely noticeable as an experience, and by the time you get a head of steam going, it’s over. There are some light fruity notes and a bit of spearmint gum as consolation for disappointed participants – I guess that’s something.

Granted the rum is relatively cheap and made for the cocktail and backbar circuit (it costs about €30), so as an interested reviewer I guess I’d buy it, try it … and then trade it or sample it off. The low strength and general youth and lacklustre profile are not to the rum’s advantage, and whatever the Jamaican portion of the blend is — on the website they stated it was added to “infuse the blend with its powerful, fruity esters” – it’s too little to put an exclamation point to the rum’s taste. It tries to take the best of three different rum styles, and succeeds at none of them, which suggests to me that perhaps it would be better to try and keep the rum as a pure Indian expression rather than try and jazz it up as some kind of exotic blend. Keep this rum on the bar as a mixer if you want, but me, I’d keep it there for something to juice up a cocktail, nothing more.

(#1102)(75/100) ⭐⭐½


Other notes

Dec 092024
 

N4026

Background

In the various reviews of the rums made by Old Monk, Camikara, Makazai, Amrut and Rhea, the observation was made (several times) that Indian rums don’t really have that good a reputation outside their country of origin, especially recently with the move towards greater transparency and purity. The rums there just never really go critical outside the diaspora and are viewed in many quarters inside and outside India as (at best) second tier also-rans.

There are several reasons for this. For one, In India itself rum has always been seen as a commoners’ drink, not a premium one, with all the snobbery this implies (it’s no accident that Amrut supercharged its whiskies’ reputation by first making them reputable outside India). Secondly, the financial incentives are minimal when the companies that make these products have what amounts to a near captive market of many hundreds of millions of local drinkers – why would they export when they can make easier money selling in-country?  And thirdly lack of awareness and lack of perceived quality go hand in hand with a dearth of information about how the rums are made – few companies give out any kind of information about that aspect of things (although colourful origin stories are legion).

Yet the country cannot be ignored forever. Companies like Piccadilly, Mohan Meakin, Amrut and United Spirits (owned by Diageo) are global sellers and massive conglomerates, irrespective of what they make. And so it behooves us to know more about the rums they make, be they ever so humble. This is one of them.

The Rum

Although “humble” may not be the exact word to use for McDowell’s No.1 “Celebration”, the flagship rum made by United Spirits (of which Diageo owns a controlling stake). The rum, first introduced in 1990, is one of only a few made by the company – the others are a white rum called “Caribbean,” a Gold called “Cariba”, and an aged “Old Cask” about which little is known except it was first released in 2004. There are likely others – we just don’t see them very much. But the Celebration is touted as the top selling rum in the world and I’ve seen news articles that proclaim the millions of cases it sells annually, so certainly it’s an elephant among field mice, and does brisk business.

That said, there’s the usual annoying paucity of production details. We know it’s made from molasses, though some dispute this and suggest jaggery may be the true source material. My understanding is that for such mass-market rums, a multi-column still uses molasses to get to 95% ABV or so, and then it’s aged, coloured and blended. What it’s blended with is a subject of some debate – it’s been said that “real” spirits are added, spices, flavourings, take your pick – the lack of disclosure is a common feature in the country were a bottle of this stuff can retail for under two bucks. Also, McDowell’s has 36 manufacturing centres across India and a score or so distilleries, so where exactly it’s made is unclear – Chip Dykstra, in a 2011 review, said it was made in Goa, without attribution. And it’s released at 42.8%, which, as I noted before, is a standard in India and equates to 75 degrees proof in the old Imperial system, which was never quite abandoned.

Even with the slightly-over-living-room-strength, it’s thin pickings on the nose. It smells vague, even indeterminate, first of plastic and detergent, and then of warm caramel drizzled over vanilla ice cream. A few fruits – cherries, ripe red grapes, tangerines – disturb the flow, but after a few minutes it’s paint on new drywall, plasticine, and the scent of a well oiled leather couch that’s old enough to leak some stuffing. It is, in short, a very weird smelling rum and one can only wonder how it beat out Old Monk, which is somewhat more “traditional” in its aromas.

Anyway, on tasting it, that thin profile persists – it’s as scrawny as a hungry cur in a dark alley. Yet some flavours make it through, and this is where we can detect some spices: cardamom, vanilla, salted caramel are the predominating notes; there’s damp tobacco and black tea, a touch of brine (no olives), and not a whole lot of fruitiness, crisp or tart or otherwise. There is some sweetness to it, but not a lot (and a hydrometer tests it as clean), and it goes down easily enough, just without any sort of flavours to excite the palate. Even the finish displays that sort of lacklustre “it’s okay” kind of vibe – short, easy, unaggressive, lots of caramel and vanilla and a few spices to round off the dram.

Reading the notes above, you can see why — even if it is the top selling rum in the world — it is met in the west with a shrug and a meh (if not outright disdain). One must concede that it’s a rum made originally for the indigenous market, where a different mindset exists on how it should be made, or taste like — and where those tastes are considered desirable; those who adhere to its unthreatening, easy charms won’t worry too much about disclosure or distillation or additives. Myself I just wish they would tell us – I mean, my God, we’re almost in 2025, dammit, why does this continually have to something we have to beg for?

Summing up this overlong piece, let’s just say that yes, it’s a reasonable rum, sure it is, just not one that rings the bells and makes for happy “wow!” moments and high fives. You can sip it easily enough and it tastes decent enough, if somewhat different than the norm. It simply lacks what one lady I know tartly refers to as “seriousness.” It’s all promises and no follow through, resting its dandified laurels on the bartop, while resolutely refusing to pony up when the bill comes due. If this rum was her boyfriend, she’d tolerate it for a while, and dump him the following week.

(#1100)(79/100) ⭐⭐⭐


Other notes


Company Bio (summarized from a longer work in progress)

McDowell’s has its origins way back in 1826 when Angus McDowell founded the firm in what was then called Madras (now Chennai). Initially the company didn’t make anything, just imported liquor, tobacco products, and various other consumer goods into India for the expatriate British population. It was clearly successful enough to form itself into a Limited company in 1898 and continued trading until after Independence – however, in 1951 Vittal Mallya of United Breweries Group bought the company and named the combined entity United Spirits Limited. 

The first distillery was built in Kerala in 1959 and initially USL made spirits under contract. By 1963 they were confident enough to launch their own brandy (called “Golden Grape”) and slowly expanded their capacity by buying other spirits making companies, while also building new distilleries and distribution networks.  However, so far as I can tell, rum was never a branded product in the portfolio identified with USL – what was produced stayed with the acquired companies’ already established brands.

The next generation of the family began to become active in 1973 when Vijay Mallya became a director of McDowell’s (as the subsidiary continued to be called – there was no opprobrium attached to the company name as had attended Dyer Meakin, so no reason, apparently, to change it), and ten years later he took over the whole company as chairman. The Celebration branded line of rums came out during his tenure and their distribution had expanded to the point where by the 2010s they had not only exceeded Old Monk’s sales, but had actually overtaken Bacardi as well.

Cash flow problems and declining sales (as well as some poor business decisions and scandals) in the early 2010s eventually forced Vijay Mallya to sell a majority stake in the Group to Diageo, and that’s the situation today.


 

Dec 052024
 

Slowly I’m reaching the end of the rums of the 2023 Australian Advent Calendar issued by Mr. and Mrs. Rum, with this one: the “Wild Child,” an unaged white rum released in 2023. However, since the distillery only had its formal opening / still commissioning ceremony in mid 2024 (per a video I found on YouTube), one can reasonably ask where the rum came from – something that is absent from the label, the website or any promotional material to be found online (including the calendar). Fortunately, an informative email or two settled this nicely, and if you’re interested in the company background as well as the rum, see below the review.

Now, I know who supplied the distillate but will respect the company’s request to keep that quiet, and so I’ll restrict myself to the production details: fermented in November 2021 from cane juice, toward the end of the cane harvest, and as a result of faster-than-expected fermentation (followed by double distillation on a 1,000 liter pot still) it came out with a much greater grassy agricole flavour. It was bottled in May 2023 after resting in an inert tank, at a shade under full proof (51%), and it’s a limited edition run of 350 numbered bottles.

Those who know of my deepening fascination for unaged white rum (this has no real analogue in the whisky world, which may be the reason such rums have never been been taken that seriously until recently), are aware that part of it is the representation of the terroire it represents. No barrel aging or other additives dilute the sense of place that such rums represent.

Certainly this one had some intriguing notes to it, when sampled. The nose was redolent of the faint chlorine of a swimming pool, sugar water, bright citrus, watery fruit, and a leavening of papaya to tamp it down. Leaving it to open is probably a good idea, because after a few minutes we get additional notes of apple juice (which gradually transforms into a sort of apple cider), balsamic vinegar on maki slices, and (if you can believe it), some thin background hints of dried leaves smoking over a bush fire. Yeah, I know how that sounds.

It presents much more of a traditional agricole rhum profile once you taste it. Initially there are  tastes of rubber, sugar water, brine, lychees, tart soursop, and unsweetened yoghurt. Cucumbers, cider, a faint pimento kick (I liked that), and also some delicate background spices – cinnamon and ginger for the most part, plus some light citrus leading to a clean finish that preserves and shows off some quieter and more traditional cane juice freshness and zest.

Overall I have to say that it’s unusual (to say the least), yet throughout the rum maintains a sort of clean vegetal sparkle and verve, of the sort that characterizes any well made unaged white. There’s still some work to be done here to bring this into full flower, I suggest, and a few re-tastings over the following days confirmed this notion (for me, at any rate). But I liked it, quite a lot, because it showed that it’s not only the French islands that can produce a nifty little cane juice rum. By running this through a pot still and letting it rest for a bit, Burdekin have created yet another agricole style product from Australia, one that can be added without despite, to other such products from Winding Road, Husk Distillers, Devil’s Thumb, Sunshine & Sons and all the others made Down Under.

(#1100)(84/100) ⭐⭐⭐½


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here. 
  • From Day 19 of the 2023 Australian Advent Calendar 
  • The company now has a new still, a 4,000 litre Frilli hybrid still pot/column. This gives the distillery a great deal of control, specifically over reflux, and they can produce a double pot style, or single pass through the pot and column with reflux as they please.
  • My thanks to Tim Lamb, the CEO, who provided the technical details.

Company Bio (summary)

Burdekin distillery was started in 2020. Initially, Sophie and Anthony Duggan ran a water bottling business adjacent to Bowling Green national park in North Queensland, and they own a 100 acre farm with an in situ aquifer beneath. In 2020 — COVID season, if you recall — they reviewed their mineral water business, seeking options, and considered that since they were in the heart of the Burdekin (Australia’s premier sugar cane growing region, with a much higher brix than other areas), they decided to diversify into rum, and specifically French Caribbean style agricole, using their own mineral water as a base.

The first product was released to market in late 2022, and was named “Virgin Cane Spirit” (that pesky two year rule, remember? … and they did not want to trespass on the “agricole” moniker either). Vintage Cane Sprit is aged for one year in PX barrels, and they also released a molasses rum aged two years in ex-bourbon barrels, which they named their Premium Aged Rum.

During 2020-2021, they Duggans played around with a number of experimental batches and recipe developments using contract distillers, to obtain what they termed an ‘elegant, refined’ flavour profile. The ‘Wild Child’ reviewed here is one of those experiments: now, normally, Burdekin uses a specific yeast blend and normally try to apply quite a controlled ferment. But in this case, given it was coming towards the end of the cane harvest (November in the southern hemisphere), the batch actually got away from then, and wild fermented before the yeast could be added, and this developed a more intense rum. Pleased with the result, the quality was deemed  sufficient to make it one of their limited editions, with a name that channelled pretty much what it was.

Nov 152024
 

The other day I did a Rumaniacs retrospective on Edward Young & Co. Blue Mountain Old Liqueur Jamaican Rum dating back to the 1940s, made by an outfit founded in 1797. In doing the usual background research I found that one of my favourite low rent Canadian rums – the Youngs Old Sam – was originally made by the same company, and the current iteration’s label more references this connection more concretely than the original did.

That said, the pickings remain oddly thin. According to those sources I checked, the Newfoundland & Labrador Liquor Corporation (NLLC) picked up the brand in 1999 and have marketed it it as Young’s Old Sam ever since – until, that is, in 2021, when — with increased social consciousness arising from the BLM movement — the stylized drawing of a man on the original yellow label came under fire for being racially insensitive, and was promptly removed…although why they bothered is a mystery, since the “Old Sam 5” has the same drawing on it to this day. Anyway, the current label of this bottle has no graphics of any kind, just text: it says it’s “Old Sam Demerara Rum” (they dropped the “Young” for some reason, and I wonder, do they have permission to use the term “Demerara Rum”?) with additional text stating “Edward Young & Co, London and Liverpool, England.”  

But when all is said and done, it’s a blended Guyanese rum aged for 1-2 years, with distillate wholly or partly from the Enmore coffey still, and is bottled at 40%. For now I’ll accept it was aged in Guyana, if only because the NLLC website makes no mention of warehousing and ageing facilities of its own. The rum, by the way, is also quite dark, which means that it’s been coloured to conform to some non-knowledgeable dweeb’s perception that Demerara rums should be deep brown, or to pretend it’s aged more than it has been.

It noses very much like a Demerara rum, and has all the usual notes one would expect where some wooden still action is doing the tango. Initially the deep scents are of coffee grounds, plums, licorice, brown sugar, and cinnamon. Then, after letting it stand for a bit you can smell some bitter chocolate and well polished leather, and later still there are hints of burnt (yes, burnt) pastries, toffee, caramel, red wine and vinegar. But no real wooden still notes of the kind I would have expected from the Enmore still, not really. Certainly nothing along the line of pencil shavings, wet sawdust or freshly sawn timber.

The palate is less in all ways. It’s rather thin, and scratches bitchily at the tongue as if wanting nothing better than to be gone (and it is). It’s a touch salty, has dark fruits, raisins, figs and sweet soya notes.  Perhaps with some effort you can find the coffee grounds and unsweetened chocolate again, but overall, it’s just a bunch of scrawny but familiar flavours, held together with string, bailing wire and duct tape. It’s not a sipping rum by any means, as the hasty scramble for the exit demonstrated by the lacklustre finish amply demonstrates – it vanishes fast, with just the faint memory of dates, coffee, sweet soya and vanilla left behind (and that not for long).

All right, so perhaps that’s a bit snarky of me too. After all, it’s a low-priced young rum that is made to be put into a Cuba libre or whatever, and at that it does a decent job. And it does have some nice flavours for those who are (like me) somewhat enamoured of the Demerara style rum profiles. But I have to say that it seems a bit too confected to take at face value, and the taste doesn’t really live up to what the nose implies. The original unscored review I wrote was mildly positive about it (admittedly I was somewhat wet behind the ears at the time), but a decade and a half later I can’t really say that it should rate above 80 points, with the caveat that if you are more into cocktails, you might want to bump it up a notch.  That’s about as fair as I can be about it.

(#1099)(78/100) ⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here. 
  • The rum tests out at 38.8% ABV, which indicates something else (~8 g/L) is in there besides the rum. That might account for the thick smoothness the nose suggests.
  • The back label says the rum is a “unique blend of rums…distilled on the world’s last operating Wooden Coffey Still…aged for a minimum of two years in oak barrels.” We need to unpack that brief declaration. For one, the company’s own website says that the blend includes “one of the marques […] produced…on the world’s last operating wooden coffee still” (sic) (while the label implies it’s all from that still); and specifically mentions that it’s aged for at least fifteen months, not two years, thought it adds that ageing is done in Guyana. Given that of late I have heard DDL is no longer exporting bulk rum from the heritage stills, one wonders if this situation can continue – though it is likely that for long term favoured clients, the rules may be bent.

Company Bio (summary)

Rock Spirits is the manufacturing arm of the NLLC which is a provincial crown corporation (effectively a government liquor monopoly, like the LCBO in Ontario) and is the only such corporation with its own manufacturing and bottling division. It was founded in 1954 and currently owns some fifteen brands sold across Canada, including rums like Screech, Cabot Tower, London Dock, George Street, Ragged Rock. Almost all of these are from Guyanese stocks, which implies a long standing relationship with DDL. 

They also have partnership agreements with other brands, which is why Smuggler’s Cove Rum from Glenora Spirits in Nova Scotia is apparently made in Newfoundland (and this makes sense since they don’t list it, or any other rum, on their own website, as they rather embarrassedly did back in 2010 when I first looked in on them). While it’s not stated outright anywhere, it’s likely that they provide blending services and bottling runs for other companies as well.

 

Nov 112024
 

It is no accident that Winding Road Distillery makes its third appearance in the 2023 Australian Rum Advent Calendar issued by Mr. & Mrs Rum, and is included in the upcoming 2024 edition as well.  The rums which Mark and Camille Awad make in their little distillery (just south of Brisbane in New South Wales) are, and have always been, in my opinion, just excellent – and that’s whether we’re discussing an unaged white rum, the first release of the two year old Pure Single Rum, or this one.

There is a small biography of the company which will provide some historical background of the distillery for those who are interested, but for now, let’s keep things brief and talk about the production stats. 

Winding Road has stayed consistent with using first press cane juice, which they get from a small mill in the Northern Rivers area, and allow wild yeast to start the fermentation process naturally – however, additional strains of yeast are then added to produce more complex ester profiles, and although no specific information regarding fermentation time is provided, there is no indication that the previous length of 3-4 days is not also being done here. The wash then gets run through “Short Round”, their 1250-litre pot still, and laid to rest (in this case) wine barrels from Tasmania which once held Pinot, for something over four years.

What makes its way into the bottles, then, is a 58.5% ABV, aged, agricole-style rum, though they are careful never to use that term (correctly, in my view). And it is, in the very first word of my notes, lovely. The nose is redolent of honey and light acetones, nail varnish and the smell of newly made leather furniture with the polish still evident. The aromas develop into salted caramel ice cream with notes of vanilla, cinnamon, ripe red grapes and a touch of stewed apples, but rather than stopping there, it coughs up a few final hints of chicken soup, a maggi cube, and maybe a last celery stick thrown in for good measure. 

Much of what we sense on the nose is also present when tasted – little of it disappears. There’s the ice cream again, toffee, caramel, salt, vanilla, all present and accounted for. Fruits take on more prominence here, mostly fleshy fruit like soft ripe mangoes and peaches, but we also get black cherries, cranberries, some kiwi fruits and a strong sense of a cinnamon dusted pumpkin latte (go figure). The hint of soup I note above is pretty much gone by the end, unfortunately, but it’s not missed – what we have is more than good enough. The finish sums things up with wine, cherries, light fruits and spices, and lasts a nice long time – it’s a fitting close to the experience, quite pleasant, without introducing any additional notes for our consideration.

Overall, when I look at the companies whose rums have featured more than once in the three advent calendars, the Winding Road’s Coastal Cane 4YO exemplifies a trend I’ve observed across the entire line – Australian rums are improving year on year. I can’t say definitively if it’s because of additional years of ageing of the matured rums, more experience producing unaged whites, the playful experimentation that characterises so many of these new distilleries. I’m just seeing that the bar is being raised, company by company, year by year, rum by rum. 

Sure there are missteps, stumbles, some weak entries – it would be astounding if there weren’t. But in my opinion, speaking about this one rum within the context of all these products we have slowly become familiar with from way down under, is that it’s bloody good. The aromas are enticing and meld well, and the palate is complex and inviting and strong enough to make itself felt, and the whole thing just clicks. I think that Winding Road’s emphasis on making cane juice rums and always going a little further down the rabbit hole has paid dividends, and while at the time of writing the Coastal Cane “Pinot” is not yet released to the market, I can assure you that when it does, it’s well worth picking up.

(#1099)(86/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

Oct 302024
 

Rumaniacs Review #R-163 | 1097

A good part of the label is missing, but even without that, this is what we know: it’s a rum branded “Blue Mountain Finest Old Liqueur Jamaica Rum” which popped up on one of the two “old rums” auction-site booths I patronised at the 2024 German Rum Festival (unlike the token system at other commercial brands’ booths, here one had to fork out actual coin for one’s dram). It was hand-dated 1930s / 1940s, and the proof point was not noted (the torn label’s missing portion probably had all that). 

Still, using that limited data set I was able to find an almost identical label (minor differences in text layout and colours), which came from a bottle of rum made by a UK company called Edward Young & Co. in the 1940s. Following that company’s filings suggested it existed between 1888-1986, except that other labels and logos made a better case that it had originally been founded in 1797 and officially registered in 1885; by 1936 they were exporting to other parts of the British Empire, including Ceylon and Canada

Unfortunately, there’s nothing deeper – names of founders, 20th century owners, addresses, etc, are all hard to unearth without paying for it, and the company is now inactive. Their blurb does mention they were “distillers and wine, brandy and rum shippers”. The dating of the1940s for this bottle seems about right, but I believe the 1930s is more conjectural.

There remain unknowns: the strength was on the missing part of the label, and other variations of this rum were made, some at 70° proof (40% ABV), others at 35%. Based on my tasting and the label, I’d say 40%. Also, the estate / distillery of origin is never mentioned – in the 1940s there were more distilleries in business than currently, blending multiple sources was common and mentioning a single distillery or estate was not a thing, so for me to say more would be rank speculation – there simply is no information to be going on.


Other points of interest:

The use of the word “liqueur” to denote a more refined and upscale rum was common at one time (the famous Wray & Nephew 17 YO was called a “liqueur rum” for example. If you’re interested, see Matt’s excellent article on the subject) but during the 1960s it appears to have faded into disuse and now the word has a distinct meaning of its own, clearly separated from rum as we understand it.

Edward Young & Co were the originators of one of my favourite low-end mixing staples, the Guyanese / Canadian Young’s Old Sam, which came under the umbrella of the Newfoundland Liquor Corporation in 1999 – to this day the rum’s label sports the date of founding and the name of that original company. However, since there is no Edward Young any longer, and the rum is bulk stock shipped by DDL to Newfoundland for bottling and blending (instead of via the UK as was once the case), one can only assume that the label has all that on it for consistency and as a line to the past – not out of any sense of current commercial reality. But honestly, I sigh when I read stuff like that – I’d love to know more about the connection and its background.

Rum Auctioneer and other auction sites have had the rum or a variant of it for sale a few times. A 1947 edition sold in 2023 for £470, anther for £310 and the Old Spirits Company, in an undated post, advertised another for sale at $2,761 (assumed US$).


Colour – dark brown

Strength – Assumed 40% ABV / 70° proof

Nose – Even taking into account its provenance and relatively mild strength, this is a serious rum. Opens with pungent fleshy fruits – peaches, apricots, range peel, tangerines. Salt, leather, plastic, olives, rubber, and a mild briny solution

Palate – Thin and underpowered, but with many of the same notes. Oranges, candy, flowers, some plastic and rubbing alcohol.  Slightly sweet, some leather and smoke, a touch of bitterness and vanilla from the barrel, but nothing untoward.

Finish – as short and brisk and purposeful as a salaryman’s stride.

Thoughts – Little identifies this as one distillery or another, and indeed, I do believe it’s a blend of pot and column still sources. The nose is really good and the palate, for all the brevity of my description above, does present with authority and verve. Really good rum to taste, not least because it shines a light into what taste profiles were eighty years ago, and how they have developed since then.

(#1097 | R-163)(87/100)


Other notes

Oct 282024
 

With the upcoming release of the new 2024 Australian Advent calendar, I should speed up the process of writing about the 2023 calendar, where we still have about four to go. And so today, I return to one of the first producers whose rums I tried back with the initial calendar, JimmyRum, that casual, humorous, insouciant little distillery down in the south (see a brief bio below the review).

Several ranges of rums are now part of the distillery’s stable, and you want to be careful with them, because while they are clearly and distinctively named — Queen’s Cut, Oaked, Cane ‘n’ Grain, Silver, RumRum and so on — these series are individually issued in batches. And while those batches are identified on the website, I’m not sure whether it’s as clearly noted on the labels, or whether the year is identified anywhere. It can cause confusion to the casual buyer.

Anyway, this rum is Batch #4 and it can be considered part of the “standard” lineup with none of the flourishes or other touches that set apart more romantically named editions (like the Navy or Queen’s Share.e.g.). As noted in my previous reviews, the molasses derives from Sunshine Sugar in New South Wales, and the wash is done in two 5000-litre fermenters, which are temperature controlled to less than 25°C with an initial Brix of approximately 19. Distillation remains on “Matilda” (the 1500 litre Italian-made hybrid still), and ageing is for a minimum four years in four ex-bourbon 200L American oak casks – these were initially filled at 65% ABV, in this case the rum was reduced to 50.3% ABV specifically for the Calendar. It’s also an unfiltered version, hand bottled and hand labelled. Cute. 

Publicity photo (c) JimmyRum

I’ve quite liked JimmyRum from the inception (the Silver scored 79, the RumRum 3YO nabbed 84) and they have kept on creeping up the scale with this one, because it’s a really nifty piece of work. It has, for example, a dusty opening nose, like a wooden barrel filled with apples in the cellar. There are spices, strawberries, peaches, apricots, kiwi fruit, freshly sliced pineapple skins, and to that is added a mild citrus note of 7-Up sugar water and zest. As if this was not enough, a kitchen sink floats by, filled with laban, miso soup, sour yoghurt, sweet balsamic vinegar (the kind that has essence of, say raspberries in it) and whipped cream sprinkled with cinnamon and lemon peel. It really is an aromatic rum.

And the palate is also nothing to sneeze at either: honey, tawny wax notes, brown sugar, brine and olives. Freshly baked croissants with butter, maple syrup, strawberries, butterscotch and vanilla, some bitter chocolate and coffee grounds, set off by the faintest sweet-sour note of a freshly cracked tamarind pod (and that’s not a bad thing in this context, really). The finish is all right – neither overstaying its welcome, nor being overly shy. There are hints of tamarind, ruby grapefruit, apricots, vanilla and cinnamon; not a whole lot more, though, and it leaves without breaking new ground or making any larger statement for itself.

Well, I quite liked this one. Young rums don’t always get a good hearing – witness my own occasional shredding of cheap mixing-grade blends like ambres, golds or other young cocktail fodder made with equal parts indifference and disrespect – but I do find that smaller distilleries often provide a good product. Like here, where we get lots of flavours, a solid strength and more than enough quality to set it apart from others its own age. If I had a quibble, it’s that Golds are cheaper mass market rums that can be had for peanuts, while something like this, even for its youth, costs way over a hundred hucks in Australia (so God knows how much it’ll be when we get it out west)

Still, in re-tasting it, I once again note that there’s a lot of breakfast on this tray. It’s a voluptuous, tasty, well-balanced treat; and while my imagination may be overactive, it’s no small thing for a rum, any rum, by itself, to so easily evoke the kind of autumn thoughts this one does. I keep daydreaming of a confident and beautiful woman in a green coat walking home from work on a crisp cool evening, treating herself to a bag of freshly baked pastries, fruits from the grocery, and a hot toddy steaming in her hand. What can I say? Rum does that to me sometimes. So pardon me while I close this review, lean back to finish my sample, and indulge them some more. I think I want to meet this rum…and maybe, one day, the woman too.

(#1094)(85/100) ⭐⭐⭐½


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here. 
  • From Day 20 of the 2023 Australian Advent Calendar 
  • As of the time of this writing in October 2024, JimmyRum’s website is selling RumRum Batch#5

Company Bio (summary)

JimmyRum is a very new distillery, established around 2018 in Dromana, a small community just south of Melbourne by James McPherson, a former marine engineer. In 2015 or so, after some twenty years sailing the high seas as a Chief Engineer, he decided (initially as a joke) to open a distillery dedicated to rum, a first (and the first) in the state of Victoria. His research relating to rum took him on a whirlwind 3-month 70-distillery tour of the world after which he bought the biggest still he could afford from Italy (before he had actually done a lick of distilling himself), installed it and ran it in, arranged for casks, sources of supply, tested the results and started making stock to lay down to age.

Oct 222024
 

Americans know the Puerto Rican company of Don Q quite well (it is named after Don Quixote, which always struck me as odd, but never mind), and are usually quite enthused with it since it’s an alternative to the ubiquitous Bacardi, as well as supplying them with another Cuban-style rum. Europeans on the other hand, know of the brand without being overwhelmed – they do, after all, have access to better tipple than most — and the rest of the world, I would imagine, falls somewhere in between.

Still, it’s worth keeping an eye on companies that at first sight seem to be aping Bacardi’s mass market appeal and rum-making style. Distileria Serrallés, after all, predates Bacardi on the island — the family patriarch was there since 1820 and his son produced Serrallés’s first rum in 1865 — and is considered to be the most popular rum in Puerto Rico. And the stuff they make regularly turns up on many lists of good rums to try, rums to start with, or to always have on the shelf.

Not too long ago I went through a fair bit of the company’s bottlings, so in this upcoming series of reviews, I’ll start low and work my way up. Today’s rum is simply called the Gold and is part of their “traditional” range which also includes the white Cristal and the stern overproof of the 151. After that everything except the flavoured range is lumped into the Serrallés Collection, but pretty much all of what they make is short-fermentation, molasses-based, column-still product. The variations come from post-distillation barrel and wood management, not earlier stages in the production process, which is par for Latin / Spanish style rons.

The Gold is a rum blended from components aged from 1½  to 5 years in ex bourbon barrels, and is bottled at a mild living room strength of 40% – in that sense it’s similar to the (filtered) Cristal, except that they note it’s been distilled to have more flavour (and then filtered). This suggests that they are using the first column of the 1934 Vendome still to producer a heavier aguardiente to blend into the final product, which makes sense.

But does that translate into a profile where this is evident? To some extent, yes – as long as expectations are tempered to begin with. Consider the nose — the website talks about “rummy flavours” (with all the usual additional superlative adjectives) but here, that’s pretty much what you’re getting. The majority of the aromas revolve around notes of caramel, toffee, vanilla, some cinnamon and a touch of oakiness – can a more standard rum profile be described? Even after standing for a while, there’s not a whole lot more, unless it’s some weakly aromatic light flowers and watery fruits…pears, mostly.

The way it tastes follows on from there. It’s similar to the nose perhaps a bit more tobacco and oak forward. The word that occurs to me is “bright” – it has a sort of scintillating sharpness to the way it tastes that is ameliorated by the easy strength, and the flavours are reasonably distinct: vanilla, toffee, salt caramel, not much more, except a very slight and sharp citrus line. And so the finish cannot be expected to provide more, and it doesn’t – it’s quick, light and gone in no time.

As a sipping rum, this is too thin and light to appeal, but of course it’s in a mix that it shines. It’s perhaps too much to expect a very young blended column still rum to wow my socks off – few Gold rums ever have. They tend to be mass-market mid- to low-range efforts: almost always blends, relatively young, very affordable, found just about everywhere. Their job is not to be a sipping agent but a basic bar staple, and their quality varies wildly. In this example, what we have is a rum I wouldn’t drink neat, one that hints at more upscale work elsewhere in the company’s stable: it has the glimmering of a complex nature that for itself, never quite comes to the fore.

(#1095)(78/100) ⭐⭐⭐


Other notes 

Oct 142024
 

There are not many distilleries in Australia who are known outside of the region – Bundaberg is probably the most famous, Beenleigh is gaining recognition, and of course there are other small operations which the magnificent Advent Calendar from Mr and Mrs Rum have allowed greater visibility. Killik, Cabarita, Brix, Hoochery, JimmyRum and many others.

One of these, about which I have already written twice, is Husk Farm Distillers; they are one of the older of  New Australians, dating back to 2009 when the founder, Paul Messenger, was ensorcelled by Martinique’s agricole rhums and spent the next few years establishing a small distillery in Tumbulgum in northern New South Wales (about 120 km SE of Brisbane) which was named “Husk” when it opened in 2012. Its uniqueness was and remains that it uses its own estate-grown sugar cane to make rum from juice, not molasses, and is an integrated producer unbeholden to any external processing outfit for supplies of cane, syrup, juice or molasses. Initially they used a 1000L Spanish made pot still but as their popularity grew it was replaced with a 6000L Scottish Forsyth hybrid still built in Rothes to Messenger’s specifications.

2021 Edition

What this all leads to then, is something rather unusual, if not outright unique (for Australia) – a pot still distilled cane juice rum, unaged, bottled at 50%. For the geek squad, there are more details below in the Other Notes section, but when one considers how column stills are so common, molasses is used for sheer convenience and ageing is at least for a few years prior to bottling…well, you can understand how interesting this is.

Except that as I have noted before in both the Bam Bam and the “Lost Blend” reviews, there’s a curious lack of agricole-ness to Husk’s rums … and this one does not buck the trend. The nose demonstrates a good initial pot still vibe: varnish, fresh plastic, rubber, some acetones, which is all nice. Gradually, as it opens up one can sense red grapes, overripe apples, raisins, sugar water, a touch of tequila (yes it does), and a light citrus through line. At some point there’s paper, cardboard and the dustiness of old rooms wafting through. Citrus peel, liquid soap and hand lotion…and ashes, with rain drops sizzling on a glowing campfire.

2020 Edition

The palate maintains this intriguing profile, perhaps even more so. Initially the taste is slightly sweet and salt, medicinal, combining light iodine notes with gherkins, ginger, anise and even wasabi, but there is also cinnamon, honey, sugar water, and a moist cheese – let’s settle on brie for now. If you stick with it you may sense a last touch of some pastries, dusty cupboards, before it goes off the reservation with red olives and (I swear I am not making this up) – freshly cut radishes. The finish is relatively tame after all this rather startling smorgasbord of competing aromas and flavours, and plays it pretty much safe – medium long, some sugar water, cucumbers in white vinegar, a few grapes and apples, and that’s pretty much it.

Not sure which year this is from, but it looks current….

Peculiar, to say the least, lacking a whole lot of herbaceousness or grass or “green” notes such as distinguishes most agricole rhums from traditional sources. Initially I thought – and my notes reflected – that the rum lacked character, but that’s not really it. A second, and then a third re-taste made me modify that view, because what it did, and what it does, is upend expectations, especially for a white unaged rum for the style of which i have a sneaking love, and more than a little experience.

The rum is aromatic, tasty, it is at right angles to regular agricoles, and shows that there are still new ways we can experience familiar profiles. Not all the elements mesh completely together and occasionally I feel that the makers tossed everything except the kitchen sink into the mix to see what would come out the other end, not entirely successfully – but in no way is this a fail or something to decry. Overall, as an unaged white rum, as a cane juice product, as a rum, Husk has created a curious amalgam that works, and works well.  We owe it to ourselves to try such a rum at least once, if only to admit there are still discoveries to be made along the many varied branches of the great rum tree. 


(#1094)(85/100) ⭐⭐⭐½

Other notes

  • Video Recap is here
  • From Day 2 of the 2023 Australian Advent Calendar 
  • The main cane variety used is Q240;  selected for its high sugar content and adaptability to the region.Wild yeast from the paddock plays a role in the fermentation process, but additional yeast is added after crushing. Three day fermentation period. The distillate is rested, slowly reduced, and stirred in a stainless-steel tank for a minimum of six months, before bottling. Non-chill filtered. No other ingredients or additives added.
  • Husk Pure Cane has been in production since 2017. The label keeps changing so I’m not sure what the 2023 edition looks like, but in the review are a few examples.
Oct 112024
 

Rums like this, decent as they may be, always strike me as ultimately deceptive: when you delve right in and start to take apart the claims of the advertising they try to sell you on, all you get is emptiness. The pretty label and website blurbs you are generously provided is rather at odds with the grudging paucity of anything resembling actual information, and for us to be running around trying to understand anything about what’s in the rum in this day and age is, quite simply, an affront to rum lovers.

The mild dissatisfaction you might sense in the comment above derives from a tasting of the Bayou white, the XO “Reserve” and the “Mardi Gras” rums that I did side by side back in January of 2024. I wasn’t impressed by the white and this one didn’t do much for me either. Now, just so you know – I taste first and research later, so whatever issues I have with disclosure and labelling and the company’s information provision don’t impact how I feel about the rum as it samples, or how I score.  So let’s just get that out of the way and then I’ll tell you some more about what you’re supposedly drinking

The nose opens with what initially seems an impressive panoply of aromas: caramel, cold wet coffee grounds still in the filter, some toffee, smoke and leather. This is all boilerplate, however, really quiet and light.  After some time one can pick out vanilla, sweet green peas in water, and some faint background notes of stewed apples, flambeed bananas, that burnt fruit kind of thing. If you strain you can get some pastries and stale black tea. Quite sweet, with some licorice and marshmallow notes thrown in at the back end. 

If this had been about five to ten points stronger it would have made a real statement for itself, I believe, but the standard strength undercuts the promises the nose makes. Tasting the rather thinly sweet bourbon-like rum provides a whole lot of nothing in particular: I strain to taste chocolates, cinnamon, unsweetened black tea long since gone cold, licorice, some vanilla and it’s all rather dampened down, with some indeterminate fruits like apples doing a slow dance in the background.  Very little to get enthused about here, very little to get inspired by — at the end, it closes with a lackadaisical indeterminate finish of marshmallows and light fruits one can barely sense before they vanish, and one is left wondering what the point ever was.

So…what is it? According to the website it’s a molasses-based pot still rum, aged for four years or less (the famous words “up to…” are in evidence) in wet ex-bourbon barrels, which implies they couldn’t be bothered to actually try for an actual bourbon but wanted to get the best of both drinking classes enthused with this one drink made on the cheap. The bottle label says it’s a reserve without defining what that is, and the website does nothing better, though it does make a curious comment that suggests that are using a solera system, even if this is mentioned nowhere else on the website or the label itself. On the other hand, we are told this is bottle #003 of 7076, which rather undercuts the special select nature of the release, I would think, but never mind.

“This is a rum for bourbon drinkers” chirps the website — one can only wonder when one reads stuff like that, to what level of bourbon they refer: bottom feeding bathtub-brewed hooch, or something more elevated that’s fallen on hard times, or…what? Me, I’m completely unmoved by it, because it suffers from that most depressing of characteristics, namely, that it has none.  It’s a rum, yes, but bland and completely conventional, without anything to set it apart, a slog through, and not really interesting — I could get more of a buzz shuffling the papers on my desk from the “in” to the “out” tray. 

(#1093)(74/100) ⭐⭐½


Brief company bio (from Review #1053 of the Bayou white )

The company making the rum is called Louisiana Spirits LLC: it was founded in January 2013 by brothers Tim and Trey Litel and their friend Skip Cortes, with Bayou as their flagship brand in January 2013 (the idea had been floated in a duck blind back in 2011). The chosen name was obvious (and survey-tested for its recognition factor, as if this were necessary), and back then the design had a ‘gator on it. By 2018 in a rebranding exercise it had been renamed “White” and the modern design had snapped into focus. The wag in me suggests that maybe more surveys were done but actually that’s when the SPI Group (the owners of Stoli vodka and headquartered in Luxembourg) who had already bought a majority stake in 2016, acquired all the remaining shares and took over. As far as I know, the original founders are no longer much involved in production.


Other notes

Oct 052024
 

In any festival featuring rums, there are always a few that are special (if only to oneself), and the larger the festival the more they are…and usually, the harder they are to find. Sometimes they only exist below the counter, provided by people who know (and hopefully like) you enough to spot a shot. Occasionally, you are alerted to potential finds by fellow enthusiasts who scurry around ferreting out the new, the amazing, the obscure, or the just plain batsh*t crazy, and then they tell you — maybe. Alas, in many cases there are only limited stocks and others are sure to be there before you — so if you dally and tarry, you’re out of luck. And so you hustle to get your dram…if any is left.

At an event as large as Paris’s 2024 WhiskyLive, which I attended a few days ago for the second time, the problem becomes acute because at the VIP area where almost all such nuggets are to be found, all the top end spirits and new releases are jammed together and the booths are five and six deep in people wanting to do exactly what you are. In this way I missed out on a 1950s Cuban rum (sniffed but not tasted), a LMW full proof rum from Cambodia (never even spotted), and several fascinating rums from the Caribbean (the list is long). There just wasn’t enough time or enough energy to elbow one’s way past and through the crowds.

But on the flip side, I managed to try this surprising rumlet, on the very last day, in my final hours: a cane juice rum from Viet Nam’s Quang Nam province, distilled on a French copper column still and then aged in ex-bourbon and ex-Cognac casks (we are not told how much of each), before being bottled six years further on, at 56.9%. That’s pretty much all we get. It has been placed in the annual La Maison collection called Foundations, and is itself a part of the LM&V series called “Flags”, which are all distinguished by labels bearing a stylized – almost abstract – flag of the country of origin. 

Because we see so little rum from Asia that isn’t messed with in some way or issued at some yawn-through low strength, you can understand my eagerness to try it. I can assure yo, this six year old does not disappoint. It noses in a faintly vegetal way, redolent of grass and cane sap. It is quite pungent and aromatic to a fault, channelling a crisp semi-sweet white wine, ripe green grapes, a touch of brininess, combined with vague notes of lychees and green apples.  There are even scents of hot pastries, lemon meringue pie, plus a dash of white chocolate and – I swear this is true – raw potato peelings.

This all comes together in a palate of uncommon restraint, at that strength. It’s salty and very crisp, with a grain background that makes it almost whisky-like, yet there are sweetish notes too, as well as caramel, toffee, white chocolate and almonds and a creamy unsweetened greek yoghurt. There are some watery white fruit in evidence – pears, melons, white guavas, that kind of thing – and the general taste is of something quite light and perfumed, leading to a civilised and easygoing finish, quite aromatic and fruity and floral, yet with some breakfast spices as well. It’s really pleasant rum to drink and not one I’d care to mix, really.

The rum noses really well and tastes even better, and still manages to carve out its own little niche with some subtle hints of terroire that distinguish it from the rhums adhering to more exacting AOC standards, with which we are also more familiar.  That’s its attraction, I think, that air of something at a slight remove from the well known. Yet the final impression one is left with is that the agricole nature of it all has started to recede as the age increases and the barrels take on more of an influence, and dilute the distinct notes of its origin.  

That’s an observation, not a criticism, because overall, the rum is great – and my score reflects that.  I just want you to be aware that even at a mere six years of age, we are losing a little of that clear sense of origin – something that says “Vietnam”.  And to get that, we may have to turn to the source, and check out a white or two from there.  Until we can do that, we must be grateful for this one: because this rum is no slouch, is a good addition to anyone’s collection, and deserves too be sampled. And keeping in mind my desire for the new and obscure, am I ever glad I tried it. 

(#1092)(86/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here
  • Outturn is 193 bottles. The LMV catalogue says 440+ but since the catalogue goes to print before the final bottling, I take the label as my guide here.
  • The question of course is which distillery made it, and my own educated guess is based on the following factors: the province of Quang Nam, the French copper pot still, and the fact that no fly-by-night small-batch operator would interest Velier or La Maison – at the very least there would have to be some street cred involved, and that eliminates Belami (too small), Mia (wrong location, different still), or L’Arrange (too involved in fruit infusions). Which leaves just one which ticks all the boxes – Sampan, of which I’ve tried just one, and was mightily taken by. If I’m right about that, a brief company bio is in the review of their white overproof rum.
  • Thanks to Kegan, who sent me to the right place just in time to get a final dram from the chaotic counter.
Sep 252024
 

There aren’t a whole lot of rums in Australia that charge full bore and headlong into fullproof territory, but Killik, a small distillery from Victoria, has never shied away from releasing some seriously batsh*t crazy rums. These are the same happy chappies who, if you recall, experimented relentlessly with muck pits and dunder, supercharged their wash and unleashed a high-ester, hogo-laden juice — the shuddering white shredder of the 59% Silver Overproof, remember that feral blast? — onto an unsuspecting rumiverse back in 2021. You can be sure Ben and Callan Pratt have lost none of their fiendish delight in making more such spirituous codpieces in the intervening period.

All this sounds like I’m just making stuff up to tell a better story, but not really. Shorn of the flowery language, the basic facts are in evidence: Killik Handcrafted Rum (this is the actual name of the company and a clever way to get around Australia’s two-year “rum-naming” limit) started life as a beer brewing enterprise in 2009 before the brothers had a come-to-rum-Jesus moment and started making the good stuff in 2019. Unusual for distillers, they professed a certain indifference to distillation equipment, and focused their attention on robust yeast strains, bacterial cultures, muck pits and boosting their ester counts like a skilled demo expert laying his charges.

To this day such pot still high ester rums are not huge sellers in Australia, and remain a small proportion of the company’s sales — gins, lesser proofed rums and flavoured editions sell much more briskly. But squirrelled away in the portfolio is the 59% Single Cask Release, which is of similar provenance and style to this rum, and shows the direction the distillery would prefer to go. Alas, for now, it would appear that the Australian public remains unmoved by the style.

Too bad: but if that’s still the case, then I think this 62% ABV pot still high ester rum, which remains unreleased and will be issued in late 2024, will likely shiver their timbers like an anchor to the head. The rum noses so richly, is so luscious and so bright that it’s hard to know where to begin. Right away, it’s pineapples, soft yellow ripe fruits (including some overripe ones) – peaches, apricots, Thai mangoes, and behind that lurk subtler notes of orange peel, a white wine vinegar, figs, cucumbers and sour cranberries, leavened with some vanilla, honey and a light dusting of brown sugar. Nice!

It’s also remarkably easy to sip, in spite of that growly strength. It’s harsh edges have been sanded off and it’s not scratchy at all – in fact, it presents as easier than the proof point would suggest, with a firm, warm taste of very ripe cherries, apricots, marshmallows, toffee, cinnamon and ginger.  And even after an hour, perhaps just to prove it’s not quite dead yet, it coughs up a last note of stewed apples, caramel, vanilla and again, a trace of orange peel and cardamom. As for the finish, it’s shy of biblical – we can’t have everything, I guess – yet it lasts, and there’s a shy exit of fruits, spices, papaya, watermelons and bubble gum that provides a good ending to the experience.

Overall, this is a rum I can only admire, and even for its relatively young age, the 62% ABV is a plus, not a disqualifier, allowing strong, clear tastes to come forward and be counted. The funkiness of a Jamaican high ester rum is on full display, yet it’s obviously not from there – by some quiet alchemy of the distiller’s art, it is completely standalone product that pays homage to its roots in De Yaad without slavishly adhering to every single note from the pantheon, allowing it to be seen as a distinctly Australian product. This may finally be the product that will convince the good rumizens of Oz to take note of what funk is and how interesting it can be when done right.

Back when I reviewed Killik’s Silver Overproof, I remarked that it was so well made that Jamaican rum lovers might want to cast a covetous eye over Down Under.  With this rum, the company proves that that one rum was no mere happenstance, and now it’s just not high-ester funk lovers who should pay attention, but the distilleries themselves. When this thing gets released, if it doesn’t fly off the shelves, Killik should seriously consider exporting it to Jamaica.

(#1091)(87/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here
  • The rum is currently slated for release in late 2024 and so will be different when issued because of the additional ageing.  I maintain that it will be close to what I describe though, and is worth considering.
  • Production stats: made from Queensland molasses and sugar, used in conjunction with their muck pits (as far as I am aware, so far they are the only distillery to seriously use this technique). Brewer’s yeast used in the primary ferment for the first two weeks in closed and controlled fermentation vessels: the low wines are then transferred to a secondary vessel for further open fermentation which can vary in length depending on the characters produced from anything to a further two weeks, to a month or more, after which it is run through their hybrid still in a pure pot configuration, and the  set to age in re-coopered, re-shaved and charred American Chardonnay barrels. At the time the sample was prepped for the calendar in early 2023 the rum was just over two years old, but by the time they get around to commercially releasing it this year, it will be closer to four. The ester count, alas, is unknown
Sep 232024
 

Anyone on the worldwide festival circuit over the last few years knows about the crew that reps the new independent bottler out of Poland called Colours of Rum. Their eye catching shirts matching their brightly labelled rums, the rums themselves, the enthusiasm of Magde Reszke and Dominic Rudnicki (among others) when they talk and strut their stuff…well, it’s not hard to stop by and just hang out for a bit, see what they are selling and check if anything is squirrelled away under the table that might conceivably be shared. It just goes to show how much a good brand ambassador can make a huge difference in the perception of the rum she (or he) is promoting. The way they operate, it’s like they enjoy what they do immensely, an attitude which keeps me coming back to their booth, every time…and that’s priceless. 

That said, I don’t want to distract from the fact that when you really get down to it, CoR is not really different from any other good independent bottler. To be sure, they chose cannily and well with their selections, and thus far they have not gone too far into the bushes, and simply concentrated on a few countries’ rums — they always release single casks — which they know are popular and will move: Jamaica and Barbados have the most, and there are also rums from Guyana, Trinidad, Fiji, and Guadeloupe. More are likely to join the stable in the future, and of late they have dipped their toes into blends and finished rums as well.

Let’s narrow our focus, though: the rum we are looking at today is a Barbados rum from Foursquare, from 2002 – and once that date clicks and you realise it’s a single cask and pot still, well, you just know it’s from the same batch of twelve barrels (out of an original twenty) of pot still distillate which Richard Seale sold to Main Rum back in 2002. Other fortunate bottlers of this rare batch of Foursquares (and I like to imagine that vendettas ensued and carpets ran rust-red in Scheer’s offices when the knives came out in the bidding war) include USA’s Holmes Cay, Royal Cane (a brand of Infinity Spirits from Amsterdam), and Nico on FB told me that the SMWS, Silver Seal, Kintra, Ultimatum and L’Esprit all issued single cask expressions from the set. Who snagged the other barrels remains unknown; perhaps we’ll be lucky enough to see them get issued in years to come, though my wallet trembles at the potential cost.

Anyway, what else? Pot still as noted, 49% ABV, 208 bottle outturn. Issued in 2022, so 20 years old, ex bourbon barrels. And that’s about all we get and all we know.

The only other rum from this background which I’ve tried is of course the Holmes Cay expression, and I liked that a lot: it was superb. This one has its differences. Here the nose opens with flowers, sweet bubble gum, candy floss, salt, olive oil, lychees, slightly sweet-sour mangoes. Ginnip, licorice, damp sawdust, cucumbers in vinegar. Noses almost delicately, hardly like a deep and heavy overproofed pot still badass at all. There are light touches of molasses, cinnamon and cardamom, but seemingly restrained from showing off the full panoply of their potential. 

As for the palate, well, no surprise, it’s lovely, presenting a crisp, clear, clean, sweet, deep profile from start to finish. Anise, red licorice, leather, smoke, salt, olives, plastic, vanilla, plus candy floss again, and that’s in the first five minutes. Once it opens up, you can sense strong black tea with evaporated milk, and some tart, fruity and somewhat sharp notes – and yet the whole time, the rum remains rather delicate. Other tastes that come and go across the stage are florals, light red pepper notes, cardamom and cedarwood and allspice, moving quietly and without haste to a slow and languorous finish that’s lightly fruity, has some spices, and a few musky notes of anise, cedar, molasses and well cured leather.

The Colours of Rum selection of the same distiller’s distillate suggests a quality similarly at the tope end, compared to those I tasted already. That’s certainly true here – the rum is excellent – but it’s remarkably different. In fact, were I to taste it blind I’d be hard pressed to say (or believe) that this is a kissing cousin of Holmes Cay, and I remember that one very well indeed. To some extent it’s in the same ball park, though this is a couple of points less strong, and the spices in the nose ands palate were somewhat less in evidence. 

But with all that, it remains a terrific rum on its own terms, and if the aromas and tastes are a little different, well, so was the barrel, and maybe there were all sorts of other minor variations when it was laid to rest that magnified over the two decades of ageing. On its own terms and without any comparisons, this stands as a testament to Colours’ ability pick a barrel, Foursquare’s pot still chops (should they chose to go further with them), and our own good fortune in being able to try them both.

(#1089)(89/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • Video recap is here.
  • Although initially they wanted to use the same colours for the same rums from the same countries, this “system” never took root and was abandoned early on; so there is no colour scheme to the labels.  They’re just bright colours that stand out.
  • Holmes Cay 20 YO goes for US$350.00, last I checked. This one on the Colours of Rum website sells for €195.00. Maciej Kossowski, one of the founders, told me that it was the 3-tier system that was to blame, with multiple parties involved, all with sticky fingers and markups. He doesn’t sell there (too hard a nut to crack for too little gain) but would do what he could to get bottles shipped for individuals if the interest was expressed.

Company bio

The Colours of Rum brand is not the first foray into spirts made by Wealth Solutions, the Polish company founded in 2007 by Masiej Kossowski and his colleague Michal Kowalski. They both hailed from the financial sector, but (possibly as a result of their investment activities and knowledge) they created Wealth Solutions to concentrate on the alcohol market, specifically the investment side of things – not production – and began their work with Bordeaux wines.

Things got interesting in 2012 when they started to go more seriously into distilled spirits: whisky and cognac for the most part, at the top end of the market, and instead of always and only buying and selling, they began bottling their own (for the detail oriented, this included a Karuizawa 1964 48YO, Glenfarclas 1953 58YO, and a trio of Glen Grants 65, 66 and 67 years old). The aha! moment for rum came when Michal Kowalski met with Richard Seale of Foursquare in 2019 and Richard agreed to bottle a “Private Cask Selection” edition of 600 bottles for Wealth Solutions (it was a 12YO), and it sold out so fast that the two founders sensed an untapped market to work with.

This led to the founding of Colours towards the end of 2021 as an independent brand, with the usual concept of bottling single cask rums from different regions. Although initially the idea was to use a colour per country — from the flags of major and well known rum producing nations — there just weren’t enough colours, they soon ran out, and the company switched to just using the colours to make the labels simple and informative. 

As of 2024, CoR has bottled 63 expressions, mainly from Barbados, Guyana and Jamaica. The staff of the company have travelled a lot to bring themselves up to speed on the distilleries and to learn about productions techniques. Of late they gained the ability to buy directly from distilleries instead of just through brokers, and that opened new possibilities: for example, in 2024 they launched a series of Hampden DOK expressions aged nine months in various casks (Madeira, Oloroso, PX) and those sold out quickly.

The company markets itself online quite extensively, and is helped by their two best known brand ambassadors — Magda Reszke and Dominik Rudnicki —  who also have strong social media profiles, and are, as I noted, very likeable and outgoing people in their own right. So well received has the brand been at various festivals around the world, that a few dedicated bottlings for such expos have been issued: one for Rum Love in Wrocław, another for German Rum Festival


Sep 172024
 

More than ever it has become clear that DDL has found a way to fold special editions into its core El Dorado range. I had remarked in the video review of the PM 2009 12 YO that until relatively recently, special limited bottlings did not get much attention from the company, or the public: the Rare Editions which replaced Velier’s iconic Demeraras did not always get serious traction, consumers did not cotton on to the “Colours” quartet, and the 15 YO and 12 YO wine-finished releases were at best modest sellers. 

Yet to have cask strength limited editions that showcased the heritage stills had to have been seen as the path forward in the drive to premiumization. And by the early 2020s, we began to see El Dorado rums popping up on the shelves and being touted at rumfests. They were stronger than the norm, remaining in the 12-16 year age range, and showcasing (for the most part) the heritage stills. It did, however, remain the province of the independents to issue truly esoteric marques (not just PM, VSG, EHP or ICBU) like AN, KFM or SWR.

Until, that is, this one came on the scene in 2024. 

In one fell swoop DDL tried to marry an almost unknown marque with a high ester rum. Previously high ester spirit had just been pushed into the major aged blends, though any Guyanese would know that the Superior High Wine (which was only sold locally) was mostly from that little-known small still. And LBI (La Bonne Intention – it’s an estate on the East Coast of the Demerara) is enormously obscure, with only a couple of Velier releases from The Age (1985 and 1998 vintages) and a very occasional indie like Nobilis or Nectar of the Daily Drams ever demonstrating the style. As you can imagine, the geek crowd went slightly ape when this came on the scene.

Now for the trivia nuts, permit me a small digression: LBI had a distillery since the 1800s, and a rum from there was judged at the Calcutta International Exhibition back in 1883. Rum continued to be produced until at least 1959, and sometime in the early 1960s distillation was rationalised by Bookers into Uitvlugt (along with several others), with the distillation apparatus that could not be used being mostly scrapped. The distillate in this release must therefore have been put together on a currently existing still, based on stored production records since no still remains in existence from the original estate.

Enough background, then. Quick facts: French Savalle Still for the LBI part, 57% ABV, 12 years old, blended with a high ester rum from Diamond’s John Dore double-retort copper pot still (not the PM, which is of wood). Difford’s notes “in excess of 1500 g/hlpa” for the DHE component, which is unconfirmed elsewhere, but even so…ouch. We are not given details of the proportion of each…not that I expected any, but it would have been nice. Aged in ex bourbon for 12+ years, and that’s all we need.  And of course, the question after all that is – what’s it like? 

The nose is, in a word, outstanding. It comprises three major components.  The first aromas one notices are the esters and congeners, those sweet acidic notes like gooseberries, bubble gum, strawberries and pineapple, with something like attar of roses in the background, and some burnt pimentos, balsamic vinegar and ginger. The second is a more pastry-like smell, of hot croissants daubed with salted butter, fresh from the oven, biscuits and damp sawdust, behind which can be sensed some leather, floor polish, linseed oil and glue. And after all that is said and done and you hang around for a while, you’ll get some sweet spices – cloves, cardamom, cinnamon and vanilla. There is a lot to be unpacked here and it rewards the patient.

The palate is simply strong and very firm, fortunately without any kind of bitchy sharpness. It’s more like a very hot very sweet and very strong black tea. There’s salt, honey, olive oil, brown sugar, salted caramel ice cream, orange peel, sweet soya, and then a repetition of the sweet spices, freshly baked pastries, coffee grounds and unsweetened chocolate…and more of the spices mentioned above.  The rum as a whole presents as somewhat dry, but it all leads to a really long, dry, aromatic that sums up the profile quite nicely, but without introducing any new elements.

Well. I must say, I’m happy that this is not a rum which was twisted into some semblance of conformity by some moron’s idea of a formula. It’s quite original, while still hewing to a profile that is recognizably Demerara. To do so was probably the right decision, since, overall, the rum works extremely well. The high ester component  is less assertive than the Jamaicans have led us to expect (that’s not a criticism, just an observation), yet it does well to balance off the more traditional flavours provided by the LBI, which, even back then, always seemed to be somewhat indeterminate. Honestly, because of the obscurity of the LBI marque and my interest in any DDL high ester rum, I would have preferred to see each released as an individual bottling. However, it is possible that the LBI distillate didn’t turn out to be anything spectacular, so a blending choice was made to marry the two and create something (possibly) better than either on its own.

I can only say that the final product is really quite good.  It costs about a hundred dollars in Canada, so it won’t break the bank; and seems to have distribution in both Europe and the US, although unfortunately the outturn is unknown.  For that strength, that nose, those tastes and the overall quality, there’s nothing here that I don’t like. My suggestion would be to park the high ester expectations, enjoy the complexity of the blend, appreciate the strength, and maybe even drop the coin to get one for yourself.

(#1089)(88/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • Video recap can be found here.
  • Historical notes come from Marco Freyr’s seminal historical work on the Guyanese distilleries, used with permission and thanks.
  • Not tested for sugar, but will add the statistic here when I get the bottle home and test it.
Sep 122024
 

It always pleases me when I see some new or old distillery go off on a tangent and do its own thing.  It could be some new still configuration, a parcellaire microenvironment, a crazy fermentation time or style, some obscure cane varietal, a new take on the Jamaican style of rum making (dunder and muck pits, for example)…take your pick.  It’s almost guaranteed to provide something we can look at with curiosity and (hopefully) with pleasure and appreciation.

Kalki Moon Distillery, that artisanal outfit set up in Queensland right under the nose of Bundaberg — in fact, Mr. Rick Prosser, the founder, once worked there — did something rather interesting here: in August of 2022, the distillery bought some fresh-pressed cane juice from a nearby sugar mill. The juice — it’s not specified how much — was transported the thirty miles to the distillery, transferred to their fermenters and a small amount of yeast was then added to bootstrap what natural (wild) yeast had already begun. Three weeks later the ferment was run through the pot still…twice (though we are not told which of the four they have was used); rested a bit, and then bottled.

What we have here, then, is an agricole-style rum they call “The Mill” which is the fourth in the line of their “Cane Farmer” Series  (#1 was the unaged Plant Cane, #2 was a Liqueur, #3 was the Spiced and #4 is this one). I have not tried the spiced or the liqueur, but the Plant Cane was a rum I really kinda liked so the Mill certainly intrigued me as well, especially since they beefed it up to 50% instead of leaving it at the tame living room strength. 

Photo (c) Kalki Moon, from their website

So, nose first: a brief wtf? moment when I sniffed egg cartons, dry compost (branches and grass), morphing into crisp tangy sweetness of green tea, a freshly mown lawn, ginnip, soursop, yoghurt. Ashes and iodine made an appearance, just enough to be noticed, then acetones and nail polish and fresh plastic. The through line of freshly squeezed lime juice was delectable, and it got richer and more fragrant as it opened up (it rewards some patience for sure) – it finally coughed up a last hint of burnt biscuits and breadsticks, oddly enough.

The palate was peculiar: not much of the agricole-style profile was immediately evident – indeed, what we got was pine needles, dishwashing liquid, citrus peel…and then the light white fruits (guava, pears, melon slices) made their debut. A little brine and sugar water mixed uneasily, but it was far from unpleasant, and once again those pastry notes were in evidence – butter daubed croissants, and overdone toast with crumbs turning black in the toaster.  An odd amalgam for sure, with a finish that hinted at fruits, some lemon peel, olive oil, and a dash of the herbals we had been looking for all this time.

Overall this is a white rum that goes off in interesting directions. There’s a plethora of competing flavours and aromas in it, not all of which work together all the time, true — but on the whole it’s a rum that shows Kalki Moon is not standing still, and willing to push boundaries a bit and dance around to their own tunes. The rum’s proof point and the profile (and the lack of ageing) make it likely to be more suited to a cocktail than for having neat, yet I believe that for those who have already made their peace with both agricole style rums and unaged whites that try to channel some terroire, this is a rum that should not be ignored, but tried, savoured…and hopefully promoted.

(#1088)(84/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here. 
  • From Day 14 of the 2023 Australian Advent Calendar
  • I call this a rum even though Kalki does not (because of Australia’s two year rule for calling cane spirits “rum”).  I think that rule is both restrictive and misleading, and so I have elected to ignore it in both the title and the review.

Company background (adapted from Review R-0883)

Kalki Moon is named after an enduring image in the mind of the founder Rick Prosser, that of the full moon over the fields of Bundaberg in the neighbourhood of Kalkie, where he had built his house. After working for thirteen years and becoming a master distiller at the Bundaberg Distillery, Mr. Prosser decided to give it a shot for himself, and enlisted friends and family to help financially and operationally support him in his endeavours to build and run his own artisanal distillery, which opened in 2017 with two small stills.  The need to make sales from the get-go pushed him into the vodka- and gin-making business (gin was actually a last minute decision), where he felt that big brands that were produced by his previous employer, Diageo, had their place, but there were opportunities for craft work too.

Somewhat to his surprise, the gins he made – a classic, a premium, a navy strength and even a pink – sold well enough that he became renowned for those, even while adding yet other spirits to his company’s portfolio. Still, he maintains that it was always rum for which he was aiming, and gin just paid the bills, and in 2020 he commissioned a third, larger still (named “Marie”, after his grandmother) to allow him to expand production even further.  Other cash generating activities came from the spirits-trail distillery tourists who came on the tours afforded by having several brewing and distilling operations in a very concentrated area of Bundaberg – so there are site visits, tasting sessions and so on.

At the same time, he has been experimenting with rums – like the previously mentioned “Plant Cane” – but it took time to get the cuts and fermentation and still settings right, so that a proper rum could be set to age. Spiced and maybe the dark (aged) rums were ready for release in 2022, and the gins were too profitable and too well known to be abandoned, so Kalki will continue to be very much a multi-product company.  It remains to be seen whether the dilution of focus I’ve commented on before will hamper making a truly great artisanal rum, or whether all these various products will get their due moment in the sun. Previously, I remarked that it would be interesting to watch what Mr. Prosser did when he got a head of steam under him, with any aged rums he’s make. It didn’t even occur to me that he’d go the opposite direction as he has with this one, but for my money, it’s well worth taking a look at.


 

Aug 192024
 

For those of not actually from India or part of the extended diaspora, the only rums from the subcontinent which most of us ever knew about were the Old Monk, the Amrut Two Indies and Old Port, and maybe a smattering of others like MacDowell’s, Hercules, Contessa, and, more recently, the Camikara. Yet India has been making distilled spirits for centuries, including from sugar cane, and so it comes as no surprise that as the growth of rum as a premium spirit continues around the world, local entrepreneurs would look to establish small craft brands or distilleries of their own. Such spirits would go beyond the doctored mass-market hooch which permeates the local market and adhere to more exacting standards set by small microdistilleries around the world.

Whether the recently established company of Stilldistilling Spirits will be able to mine that vein of perceived quality remains to be seen. I do not hold out much hope when a company tells us little (or nothing) about sourcing methods, production, blending and ageing strategy. We do, on the other hand, get a lot of hagiographies about the founder, and much elevated rhetoric about inspirations, logo selection and mission statements. Which, to me, is less than helpful in assessing the rum itself.

Be that as it may, here is what is known about the Makazai Gold “Tribute” Rum. All ingredients and physical components of the bottle are Indian made. The actual source of the distillate is never disclosed, though it is implied to be Goa or Maharashtra, and is stated in a 2021 Rumporter article to be 2½ year old aged cane spirit from the Punjab (something of a problem since that could mean a neutral spirit or one from cane juice) combined with molasses spirit (ditto, except now we don’t know if there is any ageing involved here as well). Blending and bottling takes place in Goa where the owners have leased a facility to do so, and until recently the rum was only sold there. It’s 42.8% ABV, which is sort of standard strength over there, and equates to 75 proof (or “25 degrees under proof”) under the old Imperial system.

With this background dispensed with, what is the gold rum actually like?

Succinctly put, it’s a bit better than entry level, but not much. There you are.  You may cease reading.

The nose is immediately problematic because not much happens and what does happen is lacklustre  – which is a shame, because what little one does sense, is at least intriguing.  There’s ghee and cooking oil smoking in an overheated cast iron pan, plus turmeric and honey as the primary elements.  These are then added to with a slightly sweet aroma of stewed apples, cinnamon, light vanilla, cardamom and tinned peaches.  It’s all very delicate and vague, and there’s a thinness to it that doesn’t really work for me.

On the palate it’s no better: “thin and flat” read my terse notes. It’s somewhat akin to the let down of the Camikara 3YO (review coming soon to the unread blog near you) which was also 42.8% and had a similarly scrawny corpus. It is only with some effort that I can pick out honey, figs, biscuits in milky tea, and (oddly enough) some red currants – it’s nice but honestly, not enough either; and the finish, which is short in duration and quite easy, closes things off with something of a whimper: some indeterminate dark fruit, cinnamon, vanilla and a touch of brine and salty caramel chocolate

That there are so many notes to write down is to the rum’s credit, and there is a certain “tawniness” to it that I like – I’ve detected that ghur note in the profile of many Indian rums, suggesting a jaggery based source. The issue is that the various parts don’t play well together – the balance is off and it leans too much to the sweet spices side without a countervailing tart or sour aspect that would make it more interesting. Plus, the whole thing lacks body, heft, a certain force that would make it memorable. If they ever solve that issue – whether by naking it stronger or improving the blend or actually distilling their own rum instead of getting it from elsewhere and cobbling a blend together – then they may really have something to show off. For now, the rum train has limped into the station minus several cars.

(#1087)(79/100) ⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • My deepest appreciation to Nikkhil of WhiskyFlu, who provided the bottle gratis. His website and IG feed is always worth a look, and he’s a great guy to boot.
  • My hydrometer tests this out at 43%, so it’s clean from that perspective.
  • The now-usual video review of this rum is here

Company background

Makazai is actually a two word term “Maka Zai” meaning “I want” in Konkani, the language spoken in Goa and Maharashtra (in central-west India). It was made the brand name by the founder of the company, Katsuri Banerjee, who left a career in financial services to take up bartending in a bar named Koko, located in an upscale neighborhood in Mumbai called Lower Parel. 

Once she qualified as a bartender she wanted to also become a blender and create her own spirits – whether whisky or rum or gin is not entirely clear, though eventually, as we see here, it was rum that won out perhaps because the competition for premium craft rum space was less. After interning at an (unnamed) Indian distillery and settling on making a rum, Stilldistilling Spirits was incorporated in 2020 with funds raised from friends and family and managed to survive the global COVID shutdown by concentrating initially on branding and packaging, before emerging in 2021 with a white rum (the “Bartender’s Edition” geared to the mixologists) and a gold one (the “Tribute Edition” – it is meant to be a standard celebratory tipple for everyone). There is an aged limited edition called the Mesma with a mere 600 bottles in circulation, about which as little is known as the other two.

What little most non-residents know of alcohol in Goa comes about because they went there on a vacation, or tasted the local liquor called Feni. However it would appear that Goa has, of late, become something of a manufacturing hub for distilled homegrown spirits (Google maps shows around forty distilleries there), not least due to the ease of laws relating to liquor production and marketing which constrain other provinces in a still-conservative India. Whether these are new or old companies, at least some of the blend components of the rums released by the Makazai comes from one or more of these establishments, though it is my personal belief that some is sourced from elsewhere in India (the references to “heritage suppliers” suggests this). The company has leased a blending and bottling plant in Goa to handle the physical production, and has expended from and initial 200 cases of sales back in early 2021, to 2,000 in early 2022, at the time mostly sold in Goa, Karnataka, and Maharashtra (and expansion to other parts of India ongoing).


Opinion

While I appreciate the sheer guts, blood, sweat and tears that must go into getting an enterprise like this off the ground in India – especially for a female entrepreneur in what is a resolutely male dominated profession and tipple – I am somewhat impatient with Stilldistilling’s website and the press articles I’ve referred to in this article.  That stems from an excess of marketing folderol that’s all sound and fury signifying nothing, versus a paucity of facts that might help a consumer get, you know, some real info. This is the sort of thing that annoys me with rums from the Americas, but irrespective of location, for people who should have their fingers on the pulse of current trends in transparency to be pulling this kind of advertising-only crap on us when launching a new brand strikes me as shortsighted, and somewhat indifferent to us as consumers.

I deduct no points for lack of disclosure: however, the lack of details in what makes the rum what it is annoying. We don’t know too many things here. Which distillery (or distilleries) provided the distillate; data about the base source of cane juice, molasses or neutral spirit; what kind of still or stills made it; anything about fermentation; how long it was aged for and where and in what kinds of barrels; or what the outturn was. Not all of these things are necessary – indeed, one could cynically argue that none of them truly are, if all you want to do is drink the thing – but the fact remains that in today’s rum world where the scars of the sugar wars and battles over transparency still run deep, and cause elevated blood pressure to this day, it is ridiculous to not be provided at least some of it. And purported alco-bev veterans are supposed to be behind behind this rum? One wonders if they learned nothing from all the social media bloodletting over the last decade.

Modern consumers and producers who really want rum to be taken to the next level cannot be made or expected to accept a rum on trust, which has zero verifiable background info. Not in this day and age. Trust and reputation for square dealing and disclosure go a long way to establishing a company’s street cred and character.  If a new rum producing company claims to want to become a true craft premium rum producer, then it had better start making disclosure a priority – otherwise, like so many other Indian rums, it will remain there and never attain the global heights to which they aspire.


 

Aug 142024
 

Today’s review is all about an El Dorado rum from Guyana’s famed (and only remaining) distillery, DDL. The backstory is quite fascinating because it shines a light into how large companies which lack the nimble footwork and quick reaction time of small upstart independents, can — once they get going and commit their resources to the job — produce something really good. However, I’ll add that as a note below the main review so you don’t expire of boredom before discovering how the rum actually is.

The 12YO 2009 El Dorado rum, is one of the single still expressions which began to surface around 2018 or so with a surprising lack of fanfare. Most of these new products were from the three wooden stills, issued at 40%, with occasional outliers popping to the surface now and then – like store specialty bottlings, or the recent LBI edition, for example. However, there were attempts to muscle in on the high end market by providing some cask strength editions as well – this is one of them, bottled at 56.7% and from the Port Mourant double wooden pot still. But with the outturn, alas, not mentioned.

Well, since DDL no longer sells the heritage stills’ distillate for export, we should be grateful.  And indeed, here, there is much to be grateful for, because while I must from the outset confess my preference and liking for the PM rums, even those who aren’t familiar with the profile or prefer other countries’ wares can find much to enjoy here.

Consider the nose: it starts off fruity, deep, dark and woody, with strong notes of plums, prunes and licorice: one might almost call that the PM signature scent.  To that can be added cinnamon, a dusting of nutmeg and turmeric, well tanned leather and even a touch of smoke, plus some brininess and olives, but never so much as to overwhelm the core aromas.  The strength really helps those pop, let me tell you – this is on par with any good independently bottled PM I’ve ever tried, and actually exceeds quite a few.

Does the palate hold up its end?  Indeed it does – it’s lovely. Not too strong, not too sharp, just solid workmanship landing like a stone hammer on the tongue. Most of what is immediately discernible is fruit: lots of dark fruit, a smorgasbord of fruit, black cake levels of the stuff.  There are prunes, plums, apricots, orange slices, blackcurrants, ripe purple cherries, dragon fruit, lychees…the list goes on. In a lesser rum these might have been too tart, but they are anchored by duskier tastes of licorice, cardamom, cinnamon, honey, caramel and a kind of freshly planed cedar plank that makes a powerful statement all by itself.  The finish dials things back a notch and exits the scene with a soft summing up of the preceding: honey-caramel, fruit-infused black cake, anise, vague tannins and some citrus to tie the lot up in a bow.

Honesty compels to me to admit that my tastes bend towards the PM profile, and I’ve had a lot of experience with rums from that still; and so I tend to be a bit more enthusiastic than others whose preferences are understandably elsewhere. The woodiness and anise notes of a PM (of any age) aren’t necessarily for everyone.

But I acknowledge the achievement of DDL here, and sing the praises of this rum, because while indies nowadays get the lion’s share of the encomiums and hosannas for presenting a new Guyanese rum they got from Scheer or some broker, the original distillery, with all those magical stills, isn’t sitting on its ass and waiting around for sales to happen. However slowly, the company is trying to take note of the market and make some hi-test hooch that some people – a sliver of the rum-swilling population to be sure – might actually want to drink and collect and pay real money for. 

In other words, DDL is not going gently into that good night or resting on past achievements, but moving, developing, adapting. With this 12 YO from 2009, they show they’ve lost nothing, forgotten nothing, and can still do serious work….and here, have produced a scintillating gem of a rum, one that I’d be happy to buy again.

(#1086)(87/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes


Background

It is interesting to witness the evolution of DDL and the rums coming off of those famed heritage stills. The best known of these are the wooden stills commonly named Versailles (single pot), Port Mourant (double pot) and Enmore (coffey), with the French Savalle right alongside, and the somewhat less known high ester still lurking in the background. 

Back in 1992 (when the ground-breaking 15 YO made its debut) and until around 2014 or so, the various stills’ outputs were blended in varying proportions to make up the standard line of the company’s El Dorado rums (including the local versions such as the King of Diamonds). These were the 3YO, 5YO, 8YO, 12YO, 15YO, 21YO and the occasionally-issued 25YO. No one outside the company knew, let alone much cared, about those stills, and they were not seen as selling points. Until, that is, Velier started issuing rums and showcasing the stills specifically and creating an enormous swell of interest in them.

Seeing the popularity of these limited edition single-still full-proof bottlings, DDL stopped issuing rums to Velier in 2014 and launched their own “independent-style” rums that showcased the stills – they were called the “Rare Editions” and three series over three years were issued.  However, they did not always sell well for various reasons — and for a company which was used to selling hundreds of thousands of bottles at a marginal price point, it could not have been that interesting to have a few hundred or a few thousand expensive bottlings not contributing to the bottom line…and so the Rares were eventually pulled. DDL experimented with other versions like the 12YO and 15YO wine aged editions, the quartet of blended-in-the barrel rums called “Four Colours,” the occasional high end vanity releases like the 50th Independence Edition, or occasional new 25YOs. None really took off.

However, starting in 2018 or so, they took a new tack: they started issuing various aged rums that showcased the stills directly, and instead of making them special editions, they simply added them to the standard El Dorado lineup, using the same bottle shapes, and only slightly varying the labels. There were three main types: one was a series of vintage 40% rums from the three individual wooden stills, which have a broader consumer appeal (not the least because of the unthreatening strength); then a series of full-proof bottlings of varying ages, sometimes single still, sometime single barrel, sometimes for third parties (like Wine & Beyond’s 2006 and 2012 releases); and lastly the cask strength single-still releases that are the grown-up versions of the forty percenters mentioned above.

What distinguishes such specialty releases (which is what they are) is that they are folded into the same visual ethos of the “regular” line of 12-15-21 year old rums, so there is instant recognizability – indeed, in some cases the look is so similar that they are in danger of being overlooked/ But they are distinct and they are DDL rums and while there is, as there must be, some variation in quality, overall I believe that such series of rums are now firmly part of DDL’s portfolio, and that’s a good thing for all of us.


 

Aug 072024
 

The last time we looked in on the small urban distillery called Brix (located just due south of the Sidney Opera house, a stone’s throw off Flinders Street for those who like their geography straight), they were messing around with their unaged rum called the Urban Cane, which I quite liked. Here now we have a young aged rum, which turns out to be quite a nifty little number.

In the years since they began operations in 2017, Brix have significantly added to their portfolio: now they have a spiced rum, a mango (infused/flavoured) rum, a standard Australian rum, the aforementioned cane spirit, liqueurs, and a series of finished rums called the Select Casks. Plus ready to drink cocktail cans, branded glencairns, hats, t-shirts, tote bags and yes, for those who like going places and giving lousy presents — a t-shirt. Capitalism is alive and well in downtown Sidney.

As I noted with the first review, they had a sort of yuppie inner city vibe that contrasted interestingly with the more down to earth family ethos characteristic of so many of Australia’s current microdistillers (especially those in Queensland and elsewhere).  And I also made that comment because it sure seemed like they built an entire pub / restaurant / bar establishment around their 1800 litre still (“Molly” – don’t you just love how Aussies name their stills?  When was the last time you saw a Caribbean outfit do that?).

Leaving aside all these throwaway details, what we have here is a rum deriving from refinery grade molasses sourced from Bundaberg, fermented using champagne and Caribbean yeasts, the wash from which was then run through the aforementioned hybrid still, then aged three years in 225L French oak Shiraz barriques from Brokenwood Wines , plus another two months in 38 year old 500L Tawny puncheons. The final result was bottled at 48.1%, and the label says 1136 bottles – and for the record, the release won a Gold Medal in the 2022 Australian Distilled Spirits Awards.

Photo (c) Brix Distillers, from their FB Page

Those wine casks must have quite an influence, because I must concede there’s a fair bit to unpack when sampling it.  Nose first: it has a nicely traditional rummy nose with all the bits and trimmings – honey, fruits, caramel, cinnamon, vanilla, light molasses, and red grapes. This is then followed up with sweet raspberry jam and orange peel, and has a pleasant breakfast whiff of syrup over hot, freshly-made pancakes, and butter melting in a steaming bowl of cream of wheat…that kind of thing.

The palate settles down somewhat and isn’t quite on the same level, yet it still presents some pleasant, interesting tastes. Initially we get caramel bonbons, nuts, almonds, unsweetened chocolate, toasted rye bread with salted butter. The wine and port casks bring out the fruits again – somewhat indeterminate to be sure, yet subtly shading the whole, and somehow I am reminded of the delicate watercolours of Turner or Durer versus something more savagely elemental such as the oils of, oh, Caravaggio. And then there are notes of figs, brown sugar, cinnamon, even nutmeg and key lime pie which lead to a gentle, easygoing finish that’s sweet and light and redolent of pastries and soft red grapes.

It’s a nice, pleasant little sipping rum, this one, and the strength is just about right. I genuinely enjoyed it, because it presented us a traditional series of tastes without entirely giving itself over to a standard profile.  There’s a bit of edge here, a slight swerve away from the ordinary, and it speaks really well for the aged rums that we can expect to see from this little distillery in the future. I’m going to enjoy looking out for the next one from Brix.


(#1085)(84/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

  • Video Recap is here. 

Company background

The distillery was founded in 2017 after two years’ worth of planning and setup, by James Christopher, Damien Barrow and Siddharth Soin, three friends who are also partners in a popular local restaurant. They sourced an 1800-litre copper pot still made in Australia (called “Molly”) and forged direct connections with suppliers and growers so as to source local ingredients as far as possible: Australian molasses and organic sugar cane from their supplier, a farm in Woongoolba close by the Rocky Point sugar mill (Southern Queensland, just south of Brisbane), locally-made spices, barrels and everything else they need. Their outturn includes a limited edition white cane juice spirit (“Urban Cane,” issued annually ), a white mixer, a lightly aged gold and a spiced rum, plus some flavoured mixes. There’s more ageing out back, and I’m sure we’ll see that in the years to come, as rum education and rum improvement are part of what Brix is all about as well.

Jul 312024
 

Old Monk is almost a cultural institution in India, the way some distilleries’ brands, in their countries of origin – think J. Wray White Overproof in Jamaica, for example, or XM and El Dorado in Guyana, Angostura in Trinidad, AH Riise in Denmark, Stroh in Austria, Tanduay in the Philippines, Bundie in Australia…well you get the drift. The company that makes it, Mohan Meakin (previously Dyer Meakin), is among the first of the major distilleries set up in colonial India (in 1855), and I have covered it extensively in an enormously detailed post, and won’t rehash it here.

First issued in 1954, the Old Monk line of aged rums deliberately targeted a more affluent middle and upper class tippling audience. Previously — and still now, to a great extent — rum in India had been made as an additive-laden neutral spirit meant to make money on razor thin margins via massive sales to the poorer classes who could only afford a few annas. Predating the wave of premiumization that would crest a half century later, Mohan Meakin (the company was renamed 1966) pursued a strategy of ensuring it was available in luxury hotels and the military officers’ clubs. It rapidly became an institution in the whole country and the diaspora kept sales brisk wherever they emigrated, which is why I can find it all over the world today.

By 2024 the line of Old Monk had been expanded way beyond the original 7 YO blended XXX rum. Among others that were introduced (or withdrawn) over the years, there was the Matured Rum, Very Old Vatted, The Legend, Supreme, Gold Reserve Rum (of various ages), Orange Rum, White Rum and of course the grandaddy of them all, the XXX 7 YO vatted in the dimpled squat bottle, which is what most people have tried (and reviewed). 

The rum we are looking at today was manufactured in  March 2023, is 12 years old, bottled at 42.8% and we know rather little about it except that it comes from molasses: that’s because, in a bewildering lack of marketing mojo, there does not appear to be a website for the company that is devoted to the product. For now, let’s call it a 12YO because we have nothing better to go on and that’s what they say it is (I have added a few comments below on other bits and pieces I dug up here and there).

Reviewers who have written about Old Monk — including myself — have almost always cast a jaundiced eye at the rums of the company, and suggested they have been adulterated, added to or otherwise messed with. Even with “clean” hydrometer tests, it’s hard not to come to that conclusion. And that’s because of the way it smells, and tastes.

Consider: the nose opens with an aroma of raw honeycombs, sweet peaches in syrup, cardamom, sandalwood, ripe bananas and a touch of brine and olives.  There’s no citrus element here to balance things off and what fruits there are of the softer, less acidic kind, and after opening up one can sense some plastic, brown sugar, burnt caramel and smoking oil in a wok.

Tastewise, some of these peculiar notes persist, though much reduced. First of all it seems a little thick with sweetness, honey, cola and cardamom – it is this aspect that most often gives people pause and ask whether there’s an additive in there. Most of the softer points of the nose return for an encore, specifically the caramel, molasses, soft bananas and syrup, with some balance brought in by a touch of brine and olives.  The finish is nothing special – short, dry, leather and smoke and some beeswax and honey.  That’s about it.

Hydrometer test aside, the rum tastes reasonably okay and the balance is nice: it’s a step up from the regular 7 YO XXX. It displays just enough of an edge and is just different enough to excite curiosity from the tyro, or interest from a pro. I liked it enough to give it the score I do, but am unsure whether it works in the more common cocktails given that it marches to a slightly different beat. But for a 12 YO and for the quality it does have, it’s well worth just taking by itself and that’s how I’d suggest you try it.

(#1084)(84/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • A short video recap is here.
  • Hydrometer tests out at 41.8% ABV, which works out to +/-4 g/L and within the margin of error.
  • Additional comments on (lack of) production data: from various websites we can infer it is a vatted blend, aged in large oak vats or in standard oak casks (but not what kind) and then blended. One source mentions that a bit of the original Old Monk blend that’s more than 50 years old is always added in for consistency, but I chose to doubt that. Some say the source is jaggery, not actually molasses, which I can accept, though there is, as usual, no corroboration.  What all this does is cast doubts on the age statement because we simply have no way of checking how truthful the company is about something when they say so little about anything.
  • From MM Company bio: The question of who exactly the Old Monk was, remains a matter of some conjecture and there are three stories [1] it’s a stylized Benedictine monk such as originally inspired V.R. Mohan [2] it represents one of the founders of the company, H.G. Meakin himself, and is an homage to his influence, and [3] it represents a British monk who used to hang around the factory where the rums were made and aged, shadowing the master blender – his advice was so good that when Old Monk was first launched the name and bottle were based on him (this of course implies that aged rum was being made and sold by the company for years before 1954, but I simply have no proof of this and so cannot state it with assurance).
Jul 292024
 

As some of my previous reviews of white rums from North America have shown, I am not that enthusiastic about much of what passes for their idea of a white. Too often the juice for which we are asked to part with our money is a cheap multicolumn ethanol substitute trying to copy Bacardi’s famed profile – light, inoffensive, anonymous, meant only to disappear into a cocktail while erasing its own presence like a Cheshire Cat.

That said, there has always been indigenous white lightning made on village stills and small entrepreneurs all over the world, as well as the famed French island unaged agricoles. Because of the AOC designation there are rather more rules in play on these islands now, as opposed to the free-wheeling “anything goes” nature of, say, clairins. But I argue that since the quality of agricole rhums remains so high (at whatever age), this is not necessarily a bad thing.

What is unusual about J. Bally’s white rhum here, is the somewhat high strength of 55° – most agricoles tend to be around five degrees of proof lower (with some exceptions — like the Neisson L’Espirit 70° Blanc, or the A1710 Blanc at 66° or white rums from other islands). And of course there are always 40% ABV variations for the tamer export market.

The specs: it is very similar to the 50° Blanc which I’ve already looked at in Review #584. Like all Bally rums, it’s cane juice origin, AOC certified, just over half pure alcohol (55% ABV), and unaged (rested for a few months in stainless steel tanks before bottling). More cannot be said at this juncture, but that’s enough for government work.

The exact rationale for issuing this rhum at all given how close in strength it is to its lower proofed cousin, is unclear – but it’s good, very good.  The nose starts right out the gate with an intense salty and sweet grassy note, crisp green apples, a very light citrus line, with a pleasant herbaceous, even floral scent backgrounding the lot.

The palate is, I think, excellent, and the extra proof point gives it a sort of rough muscularity which works well. The sweet aromatic herbs return to do their thing and position it as a true agricole; there are figs, lychees, persimmons, dates and licorice in the foreground, while olives, sugar cane sap, peaches, damp aromatic wine-soaked tobacco and a sly hint of herbs like dill and cardamom bring up the rear. You can sense some pears in syrup and white guavas as well and it concludes with a firm and long lasting finish that it fruity, grassy, clear and crisp and brings a nice conclusion to the whole business

White rhums when made right are excellent to have on their own and are the closest thing to true terroire you can find – which is why it irritates me when garden-variety filtered plonk is positioned as some kind of elixir of the gods in advertising materials. People who swear by lightly aged, filtered whites have good reasons for liking and endorsing them: but such rums do not have a tenth of the character possessed by a single well-made agricole … such as this one.

What’s interesting about this edition of the Bally blanc series of rhums, is that the tasting notes are so similar to the others, like the 40° and 50° – it’s almost like they took the strong stuff off the still and just progressively diluted it (although I stress that there’s no evidence fort this at all, it’s just my supposition…and they may indeed be made with slight variations for each). But even with that similarity, there is enough intriguing originality here, enough of a snap-crash-bang, to set the stronger version above its cousins. If I had a choice, this is the one I’d buy.

(#1083)(87/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other Notes


Historical Background (adapted from Review #552)

Bally was named after Jacques Bally, a graduate of a top engineering school in Paris, the Ecole Centrale des Arts et Manufactures (ECP, founded in 1829) – he snapped up the Lajus Plantation on Martinique in 1917, a mere fifteen years after Mount Pelee erupted, when memories of that disaster were still fresh and land prices were cheap (Lajus, founded in 1670, was already in foreclosure, having gone bankrupt after the 1902 disaster). By 1920 he had installed new steam engine, fixed up the salvageable equipment he could and (legend has it) pretty much built his own column still from scratch.  

In that same year the nearby Habitation Dariste owned by the the Gronier family went bankrupt and Bally bought it in 1923 and moved the distillery equipment to Lajus to augment his own machinery. In 1930, by which time he was already laying away rum stocks to age, he also had a hand in designing the signature pyramidical and square bottles which became so associated with Bally in later years. The rhums Bally made were very popular, sold well, and the company remained in business until the 1980s when Remy Cointreau acquired it, at which point production was shut down at Lajus and moved to Domaine du Simon where (as far as I know), it’s still being made, with cane from Lajus. Note that in 2003 La Martiniquaise bought out Saint James and Bally (to add to their rum portfolio which already contained the brands of Depaz, Dillon, Negrita and Old Nick) which is why the Remy Cointreau’s webpage makes no mention of either one now and why, in Modern Caribbean Rum, Matt Pietrek locates Bally as a brand in the section under St. James.