Ishigaki Distillery “Nagura” Unaged Japanese Rum – Review

 No Responses »
Jul 132026
 

The rum under discussion today is a rum from Japan, which had something of a renaissance in the making of rum since the post WW2 years, when privations and restrictions on the use of rice for alcohol when food was scarce, forced a re-evaluation of which alcohol they should be making. That’s not me being flippant, just pointing out that while some form of rum has been made ever since distillation technology first came to the islands in the 16th century, it never quite dethroned sake, awamori or shochus from the local pantheons.

Probably the best known of the Japanese distilleries is Nine Leaves, which recently (2024) shuttered its one-man operation.  But there have always been others, most (but by no means all) in Okinawa. A relatively new kid on the block is Ishigaki Distillery (named after the island on which it is located and the main city of the same name), founded in 2023 by a French expat named Francois Combes, who chucked a hybrid copper pot-column still into a small place just outside the city, sourced local cane for crushing and making juice from which to produce rum, and just started playing around. Like Rainforest Distillery in the Philippines, Francois is really looking hard at varieties of cane to use, and is also experimenting with several different kinds of barrels in which stock is being laid – Mizunara, chestnut, new and used white oak… this is not a man we want to let loose in Brazil, I think.

The inaugural expression of the distillery was in 2025, a white 56% cane juice based rum called the Nagura. I have no details of the varietal of cane Francois used – although it is supposed to be quite resistant to the vicissitudes of the elements, which is why, with dry tongue-in-cheek humor, it is referred to as being “typhoon resistant”. After a 6-10 day fermentation period, the wash is run through the still and what comes frothing out the other end is slowly reduced down to 56%.  That’s the rum we have here

Right away, that strength puts us into “serious” nosing territory. The initial “attack” (as the French reviewers call it) is quite strong, and has at scent of seawater that has seaweed and kelp in it, accompanied by a sort of medicinal iodine scent – lovers of strongly peated whiskies like Octomore might like this one just fine, methinks. One just has to be patient, because even though there is a ton of salt and olives to it, like the world’s filthiest martini (now we’re courting mezcal and Tequila aficionados too, apparently), once it opens up, we start to get quite a buit more. Cinnamon, white watery fruit, pears, guavas, watermelons, papayas, melons, figs – something light and not too sweet but quite aromatic and pleasant.

The palate, oddly, diverges quite a bit from this elegantly rough street rowdy we just smelled. On the nose you got a whole lot of salt and olives and oil and brine, which melded off into something quite pleasant and sweet over a quarter of an hour.  But now when tasted, that 56% comes much more into play, providing a sold, firm base upon which everything subsequent rested. It is quite sere, as dry as my Grandmother’s acerbic wit, and it takes a while for the tastes to start breaking through, you may sense oatmeal raisin ginger cookies, the salt has almost completely disappeared; some citrus, key lime pie, lemon zest and again, those watery fruit – watermelon, ripe papaya, white guavas, some cashews, that kind of thing. And there’s a bit of brine and olive oil, sure, leading to a nice, completely agricole-like finish that channels these fruits and salts and umami flavours to a relatively serene conclusion.

Well now. Clearly, this is not some one trick pony (like those filtered anonymous and tasteless mixing whites I regard with such disdain), it’s got a whole range of tastes, and they elevate the experience… a lot.  I don’t seem to be the only who thinks this way because the ISWC in 2025 awarded it a gold medal and 95 points — and while I’m not quite that generous and have no idea what it was rated against, I must say that I really like what Francois has done here. And believe this is a rum maker we should not only watch, but a rum that we should actively seek out.  It impressed me that much.

(#1151)(85/100) ⭐⭐⭐½

Commentary

I’ve been paying attention to the Asian rum scene for quite some time, because I find that as the Caribbean and American (north and south) rum scene matures and we are more familiar with the profiles of individual distilleries and nations, we are are – or should be – on the lookout for something new, something interesting, that would maybe blow our hair back and our socks off, and show where rum can go. 

To a greater or lesser extent, the Naguro isn’t quite it, but I want to make the observation that a number of new little artisanal distilleries from the Asia-Pacific region that I’ve been following, are all run by Frenchmen. Other nations’ expats too, true, but look at this list: Bellamy, Sampan, Issan, Renaissance, Ishigaki, all micros with serious rums in their portfolio, getting greater renown through co-bottlings, brandings, collaborations or releases of their own. It seems to me that either they don’t have enough interest in sticking around in France and open up a microdistillery there, there’s the Gauguin-esque romance of Asia, or maybe it’s just that the bureaucracy is not as onerous so they take their love of wine or cognac or whatever and taking it to a place where they can get things done faster.  Who knows?

But the important thing to understand is that while there is an inflow of expertise to Asia, it’s not a question of “saving” that region’s rums (as one producer rather tactlessly once said of Barbados), but a way of melding one kind of expertise from Europe, with traditional ones of Asia, using local ingredients and modern tech to produce a fascinating synthesis that will, one day, lead tum in a different – or at least new – direction.

I don’t want to make this sound like some kind of neo-colonialist screed – it’s not that, really it’s not – because these guys and all the others from other nations who go there, they love what they do, they’re in love with the craft and the joy of making rum generally, and new and interesting ones specifically. And in utilizing older and less hybridized varieties of cane, melding older and traditional ways of making rum and combining that with modern techniques, biology, chemistry and what have you, we are getting the results of that and it’s giving us the best of both worlds.

Other notes

  • YouTube video review link
  • The Nagura name is interesting: it refers to a secondary whetstone which is rubbed against the primary whetstone to get a sort of abrasive slurry that makes sharpening knives, razors and swords easier.
  • Some other rum making Distilleries in Okinawa and elsewhere in Japan:
    • Nine Leaves (now closed) – Chiba prefecture
    • Grace Distillery (Grace Rum): Located on Minamidaito Island, famous for its Cor Cor brand. They produce two expressions: Red (made from molasses) and Green (made from 100% sugarcane juice).
    • Iejima Distillery: Located on Iejima Island, producing the Ie Rum Santa Maria line (Crystal, Gold, and Premium) using 100% locally grown fresh sugarcane juice.
    • Helios Distillery: Located in Nago on the Okinawa mainland, recognized as the pioneer of Japanese rum production (started in 1961). They produce the Teeda aged rum series.
    • Taragawa Distillery: Located on Miyakojima Island, famous for crafting Makugan, a rum made from native sugarcane and coral-filtered water.
    • Yamada Distillery – located on Amami Oshima Island in southern Japan, exclusively produces artisanal kokuto shochu. Labels are “Nagagumo” and “Ichibanbashi.”
    • Nishihira Shuzo Ltd (shuzo is a Japanese word meaning an alcohol producing company) makes the Tomoet Moi kokuto shochu
    • Kamiki Spirits – Miniki rum in Mizunara casks, located in Nara city.

Naga “Full Proof” Kingdom of Siam 10YO Thailand Rum – Review

 No Responses »
Jul 012026
 

Naga’s full proof 62.3% ten year old rum from Thailand, is the one that lies at the core of all the others in the range.  For the standard 10YO, they diluted it to 40%. For the “Shani” version, they aged it an additional year in P/X. But for my money, had they simply started out with this one, their reputation would have instantly gone to where the Issan and Chalong Bay – small Thai distilleries which are not affiliated with ThaiBev – marked out their turf from the get-go.

This is not to say that the lesser proofed releases from Naga are bad. Not at all, they’re quiet, serviceable rums in their own way, and appeal to many. What they don’t do, is make a splash in our mental maps of the rumiverse in a way a high-ester Foursquare might, or a pot still unaged white from Saint James does, or the way Issan and Chalong Bay quietly redefined what we might expect from a Thai rum. 

To some extent, neither does this one, because it labours under the same restrictions (I hesitate to say weaknesses) as its siblings – multiple-pass column still distillate bought on contract from a major distiller, aged in charred ex-bourbon barrels, bottled as is. In other words, while the rum allows itself the freedom to be stronger and therefore more intense – the flavour notes really pop here — were one to dilute it down oneself, there’s little that marks it out as significantly different from, say, the 40% 10YO.

Consider the nose: there’s a lot more the discern here. Some brown sugar, vanilla and coconut shavings again, which is almost like a marker of the brand. More fruits can be picked out than merely chocolate oranges: plums, a soft pineapple, melons. Was that some aromatic shag there in the background? I think so.

The taste is where things get interesting, because here we can spot the additional — though admittedly faint — notes of acetones, rubber and nail polish. Then, a more concentrated jolt of cinnamon and vanilla, and the softening effect of coconut, brown sugar. The fruits remain – the same melons, overripe pineapple and orange peel – and there’s a slightly more tawny aspect to the taste that is probably the barrel influence finally making itself felt.  The finish, no surprise, is longer, more intense, and jagged enough to be just on the wrong side of voluptuous: sharp, vanilla, orange peel and light tobacco.

So, if you’ve read the other two reviews, you’ll see that what we are getting is the same as those, but more of it. It’s a variation of intensity, not so much of quantity, or serious complexity. And yet, there is a difference, and we must be aware of it. Softer, subtler notes emerge, the experience is more intense, and overall, it’s just better.

I think Sebastien Folloppe, the founder, is doing what L’Esprit’s Tristan sometimes did with his single cask offerings – issue most of them at around 46%, but also a few bottles at cask strength for those who like sterner stuff. The outturn of this full proof is 2,752 bottles, and I think if stronger rums are your thing, this is the one that’s worth getting.

(#1150)(82/100) ⭐⭐⭐½

From R-1148: Historical Background – Country, Brand and Founder

The Naga line of rums has a word on its label – “Indochinese” – that isn’t often understood, though it seems straightforward enough. Historically, linguistically and culturally it refers to southeast asian countries like Burma (now Myanmar), Thailand, Malaya, Laos, Cambodia and Viet Nam where Chinese and Indian influences melded into a synthesis of their own, with further political subdivisions like French Indochina (the latter three) entering the lexicon over time.

Thailand – called Siam until 1932, and this is also on the rum’s label – was, however, unusual, in that it was never actually a colony, possession or territory of either of the two great colonizing powers (though they exerted significant influence over it via ceding of territory, unequal treaties, and legal and trading concessions). This was because by an 1896 agreement between France and Britain, it served as a buffer between them, which neither would control, and so it allowed Thailand to preserve its autonomy in a way the others did not – at least to some extent.

Well, that’s some historical background, which now leads is to the company that makes the rum. Strictly speaking, there isn’t one – Naga is a brand name, not a company, run by a Frenchman named Sébastien Follope. He had worked for Bardinet (La Martiniquaise group) until  2007, then at a brand development agency until 2011 after which he pivoted to being a consultant and importer for rum brands, helping (for example) to introduce Optimus and Cihuatan brands to European markets. In 2012, feeling the itch to create a brand of his own, he registered the Naga name (it was unique, easy to pronounce and spell, and wasn’t already taken by anyone else) and contacted the largest maker of rums in Thailand – ThaiBev, which has a near monopoly on the local spirits market. Thaibev has some 12 distilleries, of which four make rums – the Phraya brand released by Sang Som is one of them, Mekhong is another.

After some supply issues in 2014 – the supplier abruptly cancelled the initial order – Sebastien pivoted to releasing some Indonesian arracks instead which led to his line of Naga Indonesian rums (Java reserve, Pearl of Jakarta, Anggur, etc). But in 2019 whatever issues the supplier had were resolved and the use of Thai rums was greenlit, with all sorts of restrictions on what could (or could not) be mentioned in the literature – “Thailand” and “ThaiBev” being the two most surprising. This is why the “Siam Edition and “Indochinese Rum” feature on the label. This restriction apparently changed in 2023, but the labels remain as they are for now.

Other notes

  • YouTube video review link
  • There is now a 2012 edition as well
  • Serge Valentin scored this at 77, a mere point above the 10YO. He appreciated it… more or less.

 

Naga “Shani” Kingdom of Siam 11YO Thailand Rum – Review

 No Responses »
Jun 172026
 

The label of the “Shani” requires some explanation. Part of the branded Naga line of rums — a sort of cross between a merchant bottling, a contract rum and an independent bottling — it is made in Thailand by ThaiBev and released by Sebastien Folloppe, a consultant and marketer in the rum world who once worked for Bardinet. The word “Shani” has a double meaning: on the one hand it refers to the purple and red colours associated with Thai sunsets on Saturdays, and also denotes Saturday itself, or the planet Saturn in Hindu and Sanskrit-derived languages across Asia. And that’s reflected in the colour of the label. As for the “Kingdom of Siam”, well, the historical note below will provide the backstory there.

In the previous review of the standard 10YO “Siam edition”, I remarked that it was a completely commercial rum, made to appeal, to tweak interest, and to sell based on a combination of easy sipping, age, price and strength. To some extent, this one follows from that point. It’s the same ten year old, aged for an additional year in Pedro Ximenez sherry casks in Thailand; and all other production processes – Thai sugar cane molasses source, five times distilled from a column still, initially aged in charred ex-bourbon casks at the distillery – remain the same. The points of difference, then, are the additional year and the P/X, and the six extra proof points, to 46% ABV.

Does that make for a difference, a discernible, definitive, serious one? Judge for yourself, and nose this thing. The P/X makes a strong statement, for sure: the rum smells sweet, wine-y and deep, with a nuttiness and plum-wine type aroma that marks this out as a different rum. Some vanilla and brown sugar and caramel ice cream are evident, and a faint suggestion of stewed apples, perhaps an overripe orange or two.

The palate is well served by the middling strength. There’s vanilla, coconut, ripe oranges on the edge of going off, plums and black grapes, and some crushed almonds and walnuts. It’s very soft, even sweet, yet not shark, and the proof point  allows it to present a firm profile that is pleasant – it’s a very drinkable piece of work. The finish, surprisingly enough, is short — breathy and sweet, and channels dark grapes, plums, peaches, vanilla and wine, again, and it’s interesting enough that one wishes it would hang around a bit longer.

So those are the tasting notes. What do I think?

The nose is pretty good, but the taste, I believe, is where the rum falls down somewhat.  As the vanilla and coconut took on a dominance that dampened down other flavours in the 10YO, here the P/X and wine-like aspects are so far in front that they eclipse other, subtler notes that might balance this off better. It’s too much of one and not enough of the other, is my considered opinion after trying it several times, and maybe it’s just me, but I do think it’s got more sweetness to it than is necessary.

So do those points of difference make it better or worse? Better, I’d say — that departure from the base 10YO is there and clear: but when we come down to it, it’s not an unmixed blessing, for while Baby Rum Jesus may give with one hand (extra age, finish, higher strength), he took away with the other – too much of the P/X, too little of everything else.

It’s still a better rum than the standard edition, though. That much is undeniable – the nuttiness, the slightly stronger series of aromas and tastes, make it a nice drink to have by itself.  Yet one may wish for a little less P/X and a little more of things that denote an more elegantly finished rum. There are people who will like and enjoy the Shani for all the reasons I mention here and have opinions opposed to mine, which is completely fair.  All I can say is that if you haven’t tried it before, give it a shot – it’s worth trying at least once and maybe buying it just because it is interesting and divergent from the Caribbean fare we are so much more used to.

(#1149)(79/100) ⭐⭐⭐

From R-1148: Historical Background – Country, Brand and Founder

The Naga line of rums has a word on its label – “Indochinese” – that isn’t often understood, though it seems straightforward enough. Historically, linguistically and culturally it refers to southeast asian countries like Burma (now Myanmar), Thailand, Malaya, Laos, Cambodia and Viet Nam where Chinese and Indian influences melded into a synthesis of their own, with further political subdivisions like French Indochina (the latter three) entering the lexicon over time.

Thailand – called Siam until 1932, and this is also on the rum’s label – was, however, unusual, in that it was never actually a colony, possession or territory of either of the two great colonizing powers (though they exerted significant influence over it via ceding of territory, unequal treaties, and legal and trading concessions). This was because by an 1896 agreement between France and Britain, it served as a buffer between them, which neither would control, and so it allowed Thailand to preserve its autonomy in a way the others did not – at least to some extent.

Well, that’s some historical background, which now leads is to the company that makes the rum. Strictly speaking, there isn’t one – Naga is a brand name, not a company, run by a Frenchman named Sébastien Follope. He had worked for Bardinet (La Martiniquaise group) until  2007, then at a brand development agency until 2011 after which he pivoted to being a consultant and importer for rum brands, helping (for example) to introduce Optimus and Cihuatan brands to European markets. In 2012, feeling the itch to create a brand of his own, he registered the Naga name (it was unique, easy to pronounce and spell, and wasn’t already taken by anyone else) and contacted the largest maker of rums in Thailand – ThaiBev, which has a near monopoly on the local spirits market. Thaibev has some 12 distilleries, of which four make rums – the Phraya brand released by Sang Som is one of them, Mekhong is another.

After some supply issues in 2014 – the supplier abruptly cancelled the initial order – Sebastien pivoted to releasing some Indonesian arracks instead which led to his line of Naga Indonesian rums (Java reserve, Pearl of Jakarta, Anggur, etc). But in 2019 whatever issues the supplier had were resolved and the use of Thai rums was greenlit, with all sorts of restrictions on what could (or could not) be mentioned in the literature – “Thailand” and “ThaiBev” being the two most surprising. This is why the “Siam Edition and “Indochinese Rum” feature on the label. This restriction apparently changed in 2023, but the labels remain as they are for now.

Other notes

Naga Indochinese 10 YO Rum (Thailand) – Review

 No Responses »
Jun 082026
 

We’ve run into Naga and its rums before, back in 2019 at the Paris Rhumfest that year, when we tried their Indonesian lineup. There’s a reason those rums and not the ones from Thailand were there, and that backstory is so interesting (and lengthy) I have elected to include it below this review, so let’s just dive straight into the rum itself.

Naga is a branded rum from Thailand, supplied by one of the many distilleries owned by the spirits quasi-monopoly ThaiBev. The label incorporates many different elements: the word “Naga” for example, refers to a mythical water serpent in south Asian folklore, the rum is one of the upscale “Siam Edition” range, and it is made in Thailand from Thai sugar cane molasses, distilled five times on a column still (what, once wasn’t enough?), and aged for ten years in-country, in 200 liter charred ex-bourbon barrels. 

Reading  between the lines of the website, there is a lot of barrel recombination and “topping up” going on, which the brand rep told me was “dynamic ageing” but which I posit is more like fractional blending, or an ersatz solera system. The age seems to be a true ten year old, however, and when done, the rum is botted at 40% (for this edition), with strengths varying for other expressions that we’ll get to later. Leaving aside its local materials of origin, it is, then, very much a product in line with others around the world – a blend of a particular age, column still, standard strength.

I don’t write that last sentence with any sort of snark, just to place the rum more firmly in its niche. It is not some kind of ultra special limited edition with a sharp hook to pique your interest, but a completely commercial product that hits a lot of sweet spots at the same time – age, price, still, origin, strength. I have no direct evidence for this, but I suspect it’s the best selling rum of the line.

And when one tries it, it’s easy to see why it’s popular. Aromas of vanilla and coconut shavings dominate the nose, gentle and airy, with some cinnamon and sandalwood, and a whiff of candied oranges, all very light and effervescent.

Palate? So so. 40% ABV isn’t going to tear the roof off. It’s smooth and medium sweet, again with vanilla and coconut leading the charge. Add sugar, dial it down to 25% and you might have a Malibu. Still, that’s perhaps snooty of me – there are woody and tannic notes lurking in the background, which is nice; some bitter coffee grounds, and orange rind to cut it all. The finish is light and easy, here now, gone in a flash, nothing new there, but it’s clean and it doesn’t taste like it was doctored at all.

This is what I mean about it being a commercial product. There’s little here that would make you think it’s particularly special, and even less that would lead you to reference Thailand at all – close your eyes and it could be any mid-range rum from Panama, DR or Nicaragua, and indeed, when you look at the production stats, it does seem to be made more in keeping with the Spanish style of rum making.

That’s not a criticism, merely an observation, and because I have more rums from here in the queue I know better is coming.  But for now, for this ten year old rum, I’d take it as a pleasant and quaffable sundowner if I was holidaying there, without worrying about how I might get a whole lot more.

(#1148)(77/100) ⭐⭐⭐

Historical Background – Country, Brand and Founder

The Naga line of rums has a word on its label – “Indochinese” – that isn’t often understood, though it’s straightforward enough. Historically, linguistically and culturally it refers to southeast Asian countries like Burma (now Myanmar), Thailand, Malaya, Laos, Cambodia and Viet Nam where Chinese and Indian influences melded into a synthesis of their own, with further political subdivisions like French Indochina (the latter three) entering the lexicon over time.

Thailand – called Siam until 1932, and this is also on the rum’s label – was, however, unusual, in that it was never actually a colony, possession or territory of either of the two great colonizing powers (though they exerted significant influence over it via ceding of territory, unequal treaties, and legal and trading concessions). This was because by an 1896 agreement between France and Britain, it served as a buffer between them, which neither would control, and so it allowed Thailand to preserve its autonomy in a way the others did not – at least to some extent.

Well, that’s the historical background, which now leads is to the company that makes the rum. Strictly speaking, there isn’t one – Naga is a brand name, not a company, run by a Frenchman named Sébastien Follope. He had worked for Bardinet (La Martiniquaise group) until  2007, then at a brand development agency until 2011 after which he pivoted to being a consultant and importer for rum brands, helping (for example) to introduce Optimus (DR) and Cihuatan (El Salvador) brands to European markets. In 2012, feeling the itch to create a brand of his own, he registered the Naga name (it was unique, easy to pronounce and spell, and wasn’t already taken by anyone else) and contacted the largest maker of rums in Thailand – ThaiBev, which has a near monopoly on the local spirits market. Thaibev has some 12 distilleries, of which four make rums – the Phraya brand released by Sang Som is one of them, Mekhong is another.

After some supply issues in 2014 – the supplier abruptly cancelled the initial order – Sebastien pivoted to releasing some Indonesian arracks instead which led to his line of Naga Indonesian rums (Java reserve, Pearl of Jakarta, Anggur, etc). But in 2019, probably after this Indonesian lineup proved to be popular, whatever issues the supplier had were resolved and the use of Thai rums was greenlit, with all sorts of restrictions on what could (or could not) be mentioned in the literature – “Thailand” and “ThaiBev” being the two most surprising. This is why the “Siam Edition and “Indochinese Rum” feature on the label. This restriction apparently changed in 2023, but the labels remain as they are for now.

Other notes

  • YouTube video review link
  • I’ve read online references that sniff at the way the label references a romantic colonialist nostalgia, but here I’ve tried to make it clear why those names were chosen
  • It’s curious that many Asian rum brands that have started to become more prominent in western rum festivals, are run by French emigres. Naga is one of them, and so is Sampan, Issan, Renaissance, Belami, Nagura, Chalong Bay and Mia.

Ron Viejo de Caldas “15” Gran Reserva Especial (Colombia) – Review

 No Responses »
May 282026
 

Introduction

Very early on in this gig, I came across an underproofed Colombian rum, the Ron Viejo de Caldas 8YO, bottled at a flaccid 35%. It was a product of Industria Licorera de Caldas (ILC), a distillery located in Manizales, a city in the department of Caldas, about an eight hour drive to the west of Bogota.

I never saw another one of their products until recently, so when I was given the opportunity to try the 40% ABV “15” at Berlin’s Rum Depot, I took the opportunity to see whether the newer, older expression would or could change my rather indifferent opinion of the first one I had tried all those years ago. There’s little information to go on regarding provenance, but my take is that consistent with the Latin / Cuban style of rum making, they have a multi column still, short fermentation time, use molasses and use barrel management to make the final blended rum.

Tasting notes

The nose was quite mellow, a soft salted caramel, toffee and blancmange mixup that nosed quite easily. Vanilla, almonds, coconut shavings, melding nicely with some honey and the faintest trace of cinnamon and coca cola. It smelled little sweet and there was also a little bit of tannic bite, noting serious to write home about. Nice, but not earth shaking.

The taste continued along in that vein. That mellowness presented as a soft, easy sipping experience, very much in the Latin style of rum making. It tasted (get this) of the water from boiled pasta, toffee, caramel, flambeed bananas, almonds, some dried fruit (mostly raisins), with a nice smokiness becoming evident after a while, and the slightly bitter sense of mauby bark and brown sugar. It all faded quite quickly into a vanilla, honey and caramel finish, and that’s pretty much all she wrote.

Overall, it was serviceable and completely unsurprising.  There was nothing here to excite much interest, largely because it was not appreciably different from a rum from Panama or Dominican Republic or even Cuba. In fact, if presented with a rum from, say, Fortin in Paraguay, or a Bacardi Ocho, I’d feel (correctly) that it was a sprig from the same tree. 

In other words, a competent sipping rum to have as a sundowner, but not something I’d seek out and pay an arm and a leg for, even with the (supposed) fifteen years of ageing. If you want to know why I’m generally lukewarm towards Latin-style rums, this one – with its poor labelling, lack of information and generally lacklustre tastes for a rum positioning itself as a premium – is a good example of why. All it does, at the end, is to leave me as indifferent to its charms as the producers seem to be towards me as a consumer.

(#1147)(79/100) ⭐⭐⭐

Production notes / Opinion

This is where my impatience (and irritation) starts to rise. There’s just too little information around about the company’s rums, and a lot of it is inconsistent…at the very least, insultingly incomplete.  

Consider. 

There have been comments on previous editions of RVdC rums going back a decade and a half, that it’s not molasses based, but rendered sugar cane honey, and my own initial review of the 8YO reflected that  – a more recent 2018 web page says this as well, but officially? — the company website makes no attempt to clear this up, and indeed, provides almost no production information at all – not the source, not the still, not the ageing regimen. That we should still have to chase this bare minimum of information in 2026 is unconscionable.

There is a nice number “15” on the label, but the word años (years) is now conspicuously missing so what does that mean — is it another instance of Zacapa’s infamous “23”? There is a post out there that suggests a previous iteration of the Gran Reserva Especial — it was first introduced in 2012 — was a blend of rums aged 8-17 years, and another that says it once was a true 15YO and the word años did appear on the bottle, but this is nowhere noted here, not on the bottle, not on the official website. We are being asked to see that number and assume the age. For what it’s worth it won a silver medal in the 2026 Global Rum & Cachaca Masters “Dark Rum Aged Over 13 Years” category, so maybe that’s what we can take as reassurance. Yeah, but no, sorry.

What we are given is three different claims to fame of Industria Licorera de Caldas, the producer of this Colombian ron: (1) they are located and therefore age, at altitude of 2200m (2) they use Colombian (Andean) white oak for some of their ageing barrels and have planted trees to ensure continued supply and (3) they use local water. All of his is meant to burnish their environmental and sustainable practises, which is not unusual in these days of ecological awareness (Flor de Cana out of Nicaragua has a similar strategy) but here’s the thing: the key details of what makes the rum are missing, and that leads to an erosion of trust in every other detail they provide. Not the smartest strategy around, if you ask me.

Company background

Industria Licorera de Caldas has been around for a while. It was founded in 1926 when funds were allocated by the provincial government to a Cuban of Catalan extraction named Ramón Badía, who established the distillery and created the Ron Viejo formula in 1928 (which is the founding date noted on the bottle). 

At the time the rum was made from tafias or rustic backwoods cane juice rum (similar to charandas or clairins or grogues), but it’s impossible to tell whether this has continued down to the present.  Initially large 20,000 liter vats were used for ageing, and in 1955 this was gradually replaced by a more consistent barrel ageing program, with barrels either made on site or imported from America.

The company’s products sold well within the province for the next decade and a half, and in 1944 sales were expanded to elsewhere in the country, with various aged expressions – 3YO, 8YO and so on — being the mainstays of the company’s finances. The 15 YO was introduced in 2012 as the Gran Reserva Especial, and there have been occasional limited editions of a few thousand bottles marking special occasions 

It’s unclear when the export market opened, but certainly by 2010 their products were being found in the USA and by 2017 they were already starting to change their strategy to focus on the premium export market, which included the move towards a more sustainable and environmentally friendly production model. I see no signs of cask strength limited editions on the market, and it does not seem like they ship bulk rum to anywhere, since we have never seen any indie issue any.

Other Notes

  • YouTube Video review
  • This written review is more critical than the video, which I recorded some days earlier before doing deep dive research.

Nobilis No. 42 Diamond 2014 8YO DHE/PM (Oloroso Cask) Guyana Rum – Review

 2 Responses »
May 182026
 

The Danes love their rum. Like, I mean, really love it. For a country as small as they are (just under six million), they drink more than any of the other Scandinavian countries. AH Riise, Skotlander and Hansen are major rum brands, there are an even dozen or small and mid-sized distilleries making rum scattered around the small country, and they have had some really cool indie bottlers over there – 1423, Rom Deluxe, Norse Cask and Nobilis, for example – possessing reputations that are nothing to sneeze at. 

It is this last named company, that is behind the rum we’re discussing today: the 2022 release of Nobilis’s 54.3% ABV Edition No.42 Guyana 8YO (they’re up to No.54 or 55 as of early 2026).

It’s interesting for a number of reasons. Firstly, it’s not a single still Guyanese rum, but a blended-in-the-barrel edition of two stills’ marques – the Port Mourant wooden still (PM) and the Demerara High Ester pot still (DHE), and secondly, that barrel was an Oloroso cask. Now, I have not tried the recent DDL-issued DHE/PM blend – others have and gave it reasonable reviews – but certainly it does make one’s ears prick up, not least because the DHE is not very common, esters are the flavour du jour, and anyone who likes Guyanese rums enjoys seeing what pretzels the stills’ combinations can twist themselves into.

Let’s dive straight in. The nose immediately recalls the damp dark loamy texture of a wet forest floor; there are lots of dark cherries and plums and blackberries, and it smells somewhat mellow rather than sharp. Soft mangoes, raisins, red wine, slightly sweet, prune juice, papayas, and enough funk to suggest an open air vegetable market. Oddly, not a whole lot of the sharper strawberries or pineapples or acetones of a true high ester rum, which suggests that proportion of the blend is minimal. As for sawn lumber, woody notes and licorice that characterizes the PM marque… yeah, but no.  That’s hardly there at all.

These nosing notes leave me somewhat uneasy, because they imply that the label promises something that the blend itself does not entirely deliver (except the wine part). Still, when tasted, it has its points. Dry and woody notes, very firm, with some leather, smoke, vanilla, caramel, and cigars. Here the fruits are more forward-facing: ripe mangoes, kiwi fruit, papaya, watermelon, red grapes, and just a tuch of citrus. There’s a pleasant hint of cinnamon and vanilla after a while, with orange peel standing in for the citrus. The finish is pretty good: long, fragrant, dry, mostly spices and herbs (cinnamon and vanilla, some rosemary), sandalwood and again, a combination of fruits – soft mangoes, papaya, grapes and kiwi … not a whole lot and nothing new, just enough to be noticeable.

As I said, there’s not a whole lot of Port Mourant to be tasted in this blend – we’re missing the crisp licorice and sawn lumber tannins that distinguish it – and DHE and the Oloroso barrels did their bit to dampen the effect without entirely replacing them with their own specific tasting imprint. It makes the whole experience somewhat indeterminate – we know it’s a Demerara rum, we just can’t classify it properly in our mental map of the country. 

So – does it work? Up to a point, yes. Just not enough, to me, although I have to be careful here — because a cask strength, wine-barrel-aged blended Demerara rum from those two stills is not something we see every day. Let’s just say that I liked the rum without being unduly enthusiastic about it. Fortunately, there are many more releases coming through the door from Nobilis, so I have no fear that somewhere on their lineup I’ll find the one I really like. I’ve tasted enough of their rums already to know that for sure.

(#1146)(84/100) ⭐⭐⭐½

Other notes

  • YouTube video review link
  • 217 bottle outturn, representing half the original cask. The other half was decanted into another cask, and continues to age (probably in the UK, like this one).

Brief company background

Nobilis is a company and brand that has been turning up at European festivals quite regularly since they were founded by a Dane named Kenneth Autzen. Inspired by some private bottlings he had made for the Denmark Caroni Fan club in 2019 and 2020, he was convinced there was still space in the local and EU market for another indie bottler, and established Nobilis in 2021, just in time for the explosion of online spirits ordering during COVID). 

They have made their reputation with some seriously aged rums – their No.1 was a 32YO Enmore, and in between their two-decades-old rums from all over the map, they have released some 30+ year olds, as well as one of the strongest rums around, a Montebello 3YO at 82.3%. Ken takes his sh*t seriously, as you can see, and is pressing all the buttons at once.

 

Rum Club Private Selection No. 63 “The Beast” Blended Rum – Review

 No Responses »
May 072026
 

Introduction and background

As I’ve noted before, perhaps the best rum shop in Germany is the Rum Depot in Berlin, run by Dirk Becker, the man behind the annual German Rum Festival, itself one of the top rum-focused spirits expos in the world. I’ve been coming to this place regularly since 2012, a practice that I have followed ever since, and these days, I always drop in any time in the city.

Sometime around that same year (2012), Rum Depot began not only selling rums, but bottling them for its branded line of “Rum Club Private Selection” editions. Like most indies, there’s a preponderance of Caribbean distilleries’ rums – Jamaica, Guyana, Barbados, Trinidad, St. Lucia, Cuba, DR, Haiti, Martinique and so on – as well as from further afield (like Fiji). Every now and then, though, Dirk goes off on a tangent and finds something offbeat — the Galapagos edition I looked at recently is one such – or indulges himself with something of his own design. 

Enter “The Beast,” which is Edition No. 63, a limited release of 247 bottles, which was issued in April of 2026. The bottle is the standard shape, the label is similar to previous editions, and essentially, we know very little about it. This is, Dirk remarked to me, deliberate. Much like Mr. Romero in Calgary refused to tell me the age of his rum, the reasoning behind not disclosing the components of this blended rum (for that is what it is) is to prevent the casual imbiber from walking in with expectations. “Just taste the damned thing,” Dirk told me. “It’s a rum, and I think it’s a good one. That should be enough.” (I’m paraphrasing a little – I was a little tipsy at the time).

What I can tell you, is that it’s a blend of pot and column still rums, more than ten and less than fifteen, from all over the map, components of which are aged between 9 and 24 years. Dirk blended it himself and he did it against the advice of several beta tasters, who sniffed it would never sell. “Insane” was a word used more than once, he told me with a self satisfied smirk as he poured me a generous tot.

Tasting notes

62% is a surprising strength for a blend of this kind – they tend to be tamer, for the most part. What that proof point does, however, is front load a nasal experience of serious oomph. The nose starts off with wet leather shoes, and old rubber galoshes filled with stale water, in an artist’s studio redolent of stale paint, turpentine and glue (no, really). There are some waxy and acetone notes, before the whole thing goes sideways and releases aromas of green Thai mangoes, overripe papayas, guavas, licorice, honey, blancmange, vanilla, cinnamon and a touch of brown sugar. That these contrasting smells don’t kill each other stone dead in a war of mutual attrition is quite remarkable, but no, they really work rather well together, honestly.

And the taste is no slouch either. It’s very dry, with the acerbic sharpness of a spirituous Professor McGonagall in fine form and full flow. The initial flavours of acetones and wax and glue blow away like yesterday’s news, leaving more distinct notes of sawdust, dry paper and freshly sawn cedar. What’s impressive about it is that while it repeats some of what made the nose so good, it goes off at a tangent after a minute: burnt brown sugar, brine, olives, caramel, coconut shavings, vanilla and cinnamon and honey to start. Then there are some fruits – watermelon, papaya, yellow mangoes, red grapes, dark cherries, for the most part. There’s a flirt of citrus, not a whole lot, and if you pressed me, I’d say that I sensed a touch of herbs (dill, rosemary and fresh parsley), but not a whole lot. It’s a solid, very strong rum with intense tastes, yet the sharpness I expected was not there, and the finish is long lasting and aromatic – honey, red wine, some prunes, and all the aforementioned bits and pieces coming together in a pleasing, well-balanced synthesis. Honestly, the rum is in no way a let down or disappointment.

Thoughts and wrap up

All right, so, what’s my take, after all that? Well, I think that there’s definitely some Jamaican, Guyanese and an agricole or two in here, maybe some high ester (Reunion? South Africa? Jamaica? Australia?). It would be pointless to speculate further, ‘cause Dirk was as silent on the matter as a Government taxman’s audit.

But of course, the question asks itself, is this: is it any good, or were the initial detractors who cautioned Dirk against putting this certifiable blend on the market, correct? After all, enthusiastic amateurs who play with their own supply to mix and mash something new, often create something only they (or their mothers) would love, and the market usually issues harsh correctives to such perceived hubris.

I think that for an indeterminate blend of a whole raft of distilleries’ rums at full proof, the thing is really freaking cool. No, really. It’s good. Put aside all preconceived dismissive notions that a blend of this kind just has a bunch of rowdy components that jam up against each other, don’t play nice and get in each other’s way, the way Ocean’s Atlantic 1997 did. Not a bit. The rum works, and it works well, perhaps because its very indeterminate nature is its strength in this case. The fact that it almost sold out in a fortnight should tell you something, and for my money, I think it’s a great buy if you want to try a well assembled blend that dares to colour just a bit outside the lines.

(#1145)(86/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

  • YouTube video review link
  • Dirk’s market for physical bottles is mostly within Germany so people from further afield don’t always get to try his stuff. Rum Depot does have an online presence though. And if the €100 price tag for a 50cl bottle gives you pause, just remember that you can get a 4cl sample bottle for 1/10th of that price.
  • The Rum Depot put out their own 16-minute intro video to the rum at this link. 
  • On the label, the beast looks like a giant octopus, but given the amount of tentacles on it, I’d more suggest it’s a badly drawn squid…a Kraken, if you will.

Below The Salt “Trois Capitaines” Merchant Reserve Navy Rum: The King’s Cut – Review

 2 Responses »
Apr 102026
 

Introduction

If you recall, a few weeks ago Cap’n Colp hove into view, all flags waving and bunting streaming, and rolled a barrel into my house. No, really. Uninvited, unexpected, unannounced (I hesitate to say “unwanted”) he took out his trusty thief, jammed it into the barrel, and poured me a shot of liquid gelignite so extraordinary for its extreme youth, that here, a fortnight later, I’m still  uncrossing my eyes. I mean, that sh*t was really quite amazing, the more so since it’s such a rare thing, here in the wilds of suburbia where the LCBO holds sway and we are starved for anything remotely resembling serious quality from something so young. 

Since then, the contents of that barrel and its siblings have now been bottled in a specially high-tempered glass enclosure that smokes and gurgles and growls, and has been adorned with a title the length of a Turner painting – Below the Salt’s “Trois Capitaines” Merchant Navy Rum “The King’s Cut.” 

Below the tasting notes I’ll provide a bit more background at my usual inordinate length, but for the moment let’s just summarize by saying this is a 57% pot still rum aged for less than a month in 40L barrels in a solera system, and is unexpectedly, even remarkably, good – the small barrels really make for some intense tastes, and the strength certainly does no harm – and even if there are some caveats, which I’ll get into as well, the entirety of the experience is quietly outstanding.

Tasting Notes

So let’s begin. The nose presents with a panoply of aromas that a rum many years older would have difficulty emulating: initial notes of salt, honey, vanilla, caramel, salt and brown sugar, which seems kind of “standard” before kicking into geat. And then we notice some rancio, hogo, pineapple, cinnamon, nougat, almonds, mangoes.  Plus – and yeah, the party isn’t over yet — glue, brine and olives, rotting oranges, flambeed bananas. Bloody hell, there’s a lot to savour here.

Tasting it is again, something quite amazing: to begin with, if you were to tell me this was 10% less than rated, I’d believe you – the balance is that good, the whole feel of it is so firm and well done, you could easily believe this was a mid- to high-forties proof rum. Firm and spicy for sure – at that strength it’s expected — with delicious notes of honey, caramel ice cream, brine, olives, rotting oranges… and then it picks up a head of steam with pickles, marzipan, cocoa cola and oak tannins.  The whole thing leads to a finish startling in its length and clarity – mostly the same hints of nougat, brown sugar, toffee, flambeed bananas and slightly sour fruits, even a pimento or two, and a hard shake of the spice shakers. 

Thoughts

There are both and bad things to be seen here, which a lengthier tasting exercise made me more aware of, more so than when I just tasted something straight out of the barrel. What I really liked about this rum is that it was unashamedly made how it’s made, takes a side for its tasting profile, and isn’t coy about it. Too many rums are made to be like puppies – they’re sweet, everyone loves them, nobody is offended – here’s one that doesn’t give a damn whether you like it or not, and just shrugs and goes its own way. For any rum maker to have that attitude is exemplary – to find it in the maritimes of Canada where rums are thick on the ground but too often thin on the sh*t that matters, is nothing shy of extraordinary.

That said, much as I liked it, you can’t get away from the extreme youth, and much as the small barrels intensify tastes in a short time frame, it’s occasionally rough, and lacks the more rounded profile of something aged longer and more patiently, where the alcohol-water-wood interaction is quieter. However, I simply argue that this is not a disqualifier, but an aspect that reflects this rum’s individuality.I’ve noticed a similar edge where a rum is diluted too quickly down to 40% – the shock of fast addition of water is very different from a slower process that is done over a period of weeks or months, and here, that’s evidenced in a ruder, more jagged result.  This does enhance its character – I would not score it the way I did otherwise — but it does lack a certain elegance some might be looking for, and the casual drinker should be aware of that. You’ll have to accept that and move with it, I think. Me, I liked it for precisely those reasons.

Background

The long title probably requires some explanation. First of all, Below the Salt is a small distillery founded by a Canadian tug boat captain named Gregg Colp a few years ago, located in Nova Scotia. It is an environmentally friendly carbon-zero operation with a pot still and a small barrel ageing operation. The distillery is a micro, and has much more capacity than sales at this point, largely due to the difficulty of breaking into the various eastern provincial monopolies which run and buy for and stock all the stores there. That said, they produce a variety of products: vodka, grappa, rum, brandy, gin and even an RTD mix called the Boilermaker.

This rum is made from a version of panela, or jaggery – rendered down sugar cane juice deriving from unrefined Guatemalan and Demerara cane juice crystals (specifically not refined sugar); fermented for a few days and then run through the pot still. When the cuts are made from the spirit run, the lees are normally thrown back into the wash to be recycled, but for the “King’s Cut” here, the best and most aromatic parts of the hearts and tails are retained and put to age by themselves. Sharp observers will recognize this as essentially the same as what some distilleries – notably Privateer out of the USA – refers to as the Queen’s Cut, and is always deemed a cut above the ordinary, so to speak..

The ageing here is done differently as well: this rum is aged in a dozen or so 40L oak barrels, for less than a month, in a quick solera style system. This results in a 500 bottle outturn, released at Navy Strength of 57%, which explains the latter part of the rum’s title. One may reasonably assume that the Merchant Marine, when they took rum aboard, adhered to similar traditions and used the same strength as the British Royal Navy

As for the “Trois Capitaines”, that’s is a title that hearkens to the founder’s antecedents. The first is a distant ancestor of Gregg Colp’s, Kapitan (Captain) Jacob Kölb – he was an 18th century Swiss mercenary who settled in the Maritimes, hooked up with a Mi’kmaw woman and, in what appears to be a consistent trait of the family, brewed his own illicit hooch to take on board whatever ship he was sailing that day. The second Captain was Captain de la Ronde (grandfather? great-grandfather?), who did rum running like William McCoy from the US during Prohibition. And of course, in a modest and self-effacing nod to himself, the third Captain is the distillery’s founder himself — and who, having met him, I can say is as colourful a character as one can hope to meet these days.

(#1144)(87/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

  • Video recap link of the review
  • Video recap of the distillery background
  • This bottle is a free one, provided in what is probably a deplorable excess of enthusiasm by Captain Colp, who really hoped I’d try it after my positive (if unofficial) eval of the barrel it came from. I don’t think it influenced my assessment, but it’s best you know the source.
  • Somebody will inevitably ask, so the Turner painting I reference in paragraph 2 is “The Slave Ship, Slavers Throwing Overboard the Dead and Dying, Typhoon Coming On” (1840)”

Habitation Velier Foursquare 2021 LFT Unaged White Rum – Review

 No Responses »
Mar 252026
 

I still remember the hushed rumours that swirled around the rumiverse even before the 2022 TWE Rumshow opened its doors. Richard Seale had something new, something original and something fierce in his leopardskin rock star trousers, and while supposedly it wasn’t officially on the shelves, maybe a sly wink and a significant nod to Pete Holland who was tending booth that time, and perhaps,possibly – you could score a taste? Or so the tall-tale teller in me likes to remember. It’s a good story, isn’t it?

The truth is rather more prosaic. Yes we did hear rumours about a new white rum from Foursquare, but few of us rum junkies ever tried it – and as it turned out, it was on display and we all did get to try it without bribing, bullying or bludgeoning the hapless Mr. Holland. He had one bottle for each day, and he warned us to come get some pronto, because a few hours in, and even with the usual mad crowds around Foursquare (the Sovereignty and Isonomy were also being shown at the time), that particular bottle would be poured out and licked clean in labba time.

Fun and games aside, Foursquare released a long fermented unaged pot still high ester rum through the Habitation Velier line – not the collaborations, which are rarer, or via Foursquare’s own bottling system which are more famous. As Richard told me, it was good to have this kind of ability to release rather more experimental rums through the HV brand, to gauge interest and show it off as something educational, before committing the company to that direction more seriously.

The production notes are quite interesting: bottled in 2021 and released to the public in 2022. There are actually two versions: the 555 g/hlpa on the label is the one I tried (the second release does not have that statement), and it’s a blend of cane juice and molasses based washes – the cane juice element was fermented with wild (natural) yeast for several weeks, while a yest ferment was added to the molasses component for about three days 1. The distillate was run through Foursquare’s pot still and bottled at a rip snortin’ 62%. 

Label is a mock up, courtesy of Velier. The “xxx” ester count is 555 on the finished label.

Unaged white rums – especially when coming off a trapiche, a single column still or a pot still – are creatures to treat with respect (and occasionally fear), especially if one comes to them from a background of standard strength filtered whites or inoffensive golds. When one noses the LFT, you can understand my note of caution. It smells, right off the bat, like a dirty stinky martini with a ton of olives, very dry. Then, lighter sugar cane sap and sugar water notes, green peas from a tin, sweet corn, white guavas, grass, green apples, grapes, herbs, almonds… Burnt paper, wet cardboard, ash, minerals, iodine, dried seaweed….I mean, this is like a one stop nosing shop, if you get my drift. Raw, heavy, flavourful, bursting at the seams with every inhale.

And the palate did not drop the ball either: it was hot and firm, but not snarkily scratchy, and so one did not have to call for an EMT while drinking it. Initial tastes are of rubber, nail polish, acetones, and turpentine, which led the charge in fine style.  Thundering behind that comes the parade of sweet and sour fruit, yoghurt, grass, dill, herbs, pears, apples, grapes, gooseberries, brine and olives, sugar water. I kept it in my glass as I wandered around the show that day, recharged it once or twice, and it was a simply great sipping experience if left to open properly – hurrying with this one is definitely not recommended.  Finish is long, dry and sweet, with fruity and estery notes of pineapple, half ripe mangoes, cardamom, sugar water, laban and tart gooseberries, some olives and brine, and it took an impressively long time to fade from ones senses (if not from memory).

So. Well. Let me catch my breath here. Yep, this has all the hallmarks of a real agricole-style rum (in spite of the molasses component) with the blend and the pot still providing an interesting balance of heavier and lighter notes at the same time. I remarked that the Messcia was like a dialled down clairin (not entirely a compliment), but here, it’s hard to tell the difference, and indeed, there are elements on the LFT that few if any French island cane juice rums have very often, if at all. That’s what makes it interesting, and elevates the experience.

Much of what enthused me about the Worthy Park high ester cane juice white is also on display in this one, albeit twisted into new and intriguing shapes. Honesty compels me to admit that it’s really not for everyone, especially not casual drinkers, and initially it seems offputting.  But that’s a trap to make non-serious people leave it alone, leaving more for us maniacs who like to see what happens when a respected rum maker frees himself from the strictures of the market, and simply makes what ever the hell he feels like. Most of us would call it a red letter day when that happens, but I suspect that for Richard, the day he made it, he just stuck his hands in those trousers, shrugged and said, “It’s Tuesday.”

(#1143)(87/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

  • Youtube video review link
  • My thanks to Richard Seale for taking the time to providing some background production notes to flesh out this review
  • Foursquare does mix cane juice distillate in small proportions to regular releases. Starting in 2026 they sourced cane juice from Saint Nicholas Abbey, but by 2018 they were milling their own, and scaled up in 2020.  That said, both the LFT and the Triple Entente will remain niche products of limited outturns for the education and enjoyment of uber-nerds and die hard aficionados, not for widespread release.
  • The question the review raises is this: if I was trying it blind and next to equal strength agricoles, grogues or clairins, and didn’t know it was Foursquare… would I be as enthusiastic?  I ask myself these questions every time I get wowed by an extraordinarily original product. Here I must say “yes” – because I did.

Phraya “Deep Matured” Aged Thailand Rum – Review

 No Responses »
Mar 162026
 

The top end release of the Phraya triptych of aged rums that is released by Sang Som distillery in Thailand clearly seeks to dominate the premium aged rum space in Asia, and proudly boasts of the 8 gold medals it has won in various spirits competitions from 2012 to 2024. The bottle is handsome to a fault, the backstory is cute, the wording evokes interest, the price is high enough to suggest exclusivity, and the website is really pretty, with lots of nice photos and words.

Unfortunately, when we take all this apart, what remains is somewhat less than the sum of its parts. And that’s a shame for their premium edition, the so called “Deep Matured” Gold Rum since one is left with a vague feeling that more could have been attempted.  I tried all three of Phraya’s rums (Elements, Elements 8YO and this one) at the same time for over a few hours, and feel that this one rum may suffer most from not exceeding the expectations engendered by the presentation and marketing materials.

The production notes aren’t significantly different for any of these rums: age seems to be the only differential, and this is where perhaps more information rather than market-speak would have made a difference to our perceptions. Molasses made from local Thai cane, short fermentation, multi-column-still distillation, and then ageing in charred ex bourbon barrels for 7-12 years (the words “deep matured” have no meaning at all beyond being evocative), and bottled at 40%. 

Nose first: it’s clean and dry, even crisp, giving rise to scents of flambeed bananas, caramel, coffee grounds, toffee, salted dark chocolate, mocha and almonds – in fact the nuttiness is the clearest differentiator between this and the other two. Some overripe fruit, honey, coconut shavings, and there’s a whiff of oaken tannins and leather, perhaps some smoke to round things off. It’s rounded and soft, quite easy to sniff.

This soft roundness persists when you taste it. That’s not entirely a good thing: sure, we can taste leather, smoke, bananas, brown sugar, crushed almonds and cashews, vanilla, plus some cardamom and cloves. That part is nice, because it adds to the relative blandness of the other two rums in the lineup. What’s missing is a little balance that some lighter, crisper citrus would have brought to the party – there’s some fruit, sure, but it’s all overripe soft flavours – squishy mangoes, overripe pineapples, plums…nothing that gives it any kind of edge. Now, this makes it go down easy, and the finish repeats many of the same notes, yet all it does is make it a relatively unadventurous, soft sipping rum that doesn’t dare much and goes nowhere fast.

Some of the fault for this lies in the strength – I confess to feeling some impatience with that 40%. We’re in 2026 now, and you would think that anyone paying attention and reading the tea leaves would up the oomph on their top end rums by at least a point or five, yet no, Sang Som stayed stubbornly stuck at living room strength. Maybe that was for tax or export purposes, but you know what? I don’t care – because at the top of the company scale, one expects something different, better, more intriguing: a bit more bite and serrations, not an incremental improvement from the lower editions.

So, I’m disappointed. The rum is not precisely insipid – like the much derided Millonario rums from Rum Nation, there’s rather more under the hood than appears at first sip; yet it leaves us wishing for more, somehow, something that would excite our interest, tickle our noses and challenge our palates. Decent as it is, the Phraya Gold rum ends up being  just another middle aged rum that tries to use slick presentation to sell something that could have been better.

(#1142)(82/100) (⭐⭐⭐½)

Opinion – Phraya rums generally.

So with this review I looked at the range of Sang Som’s upscale offerings, and must concede that for now, it’s a muted sound and fury signifying very little, sorry. As with all rums that are made for different parts of the world and different cultures, I should be careful in that assessment, however, since what may not work for me will certainly work elsewhere (as the size of the company attests, they do have their market)

This leads me to wonder exactly who the rum is meant for.  Back in 2024 Phraya (or Sangsom Distillery, its owner) was starting to pop up on the western festival circuit, but the company’s rums had been available for years before that and made nary a splash. Even now they don’t, in spite of all the flash and glitter I mentioned in my opening blurb.

I have a feeling that the main market remains Asia, where such easy rums have a much longer and stronger tradition. If you were to gather a few mass market rums from there – Old Monk, Amrut’s stuff, Mekhong, Tanduay are some examples – you see the sort of similarity that perhaps is the reason they sell like crazy… but mostly there. This similarity is where I believe that such companies should tweak their production a little more to make them stand out and maybe differentiate themselves enough to go global. Granted, breaking into the major non-Asian markets, no matter where, may feel like a thankless task given the obstacles and regulations – but perhaps if they were to come up with something more original and more unique, while never entirely losing their local style… well, maybe we’d feel more positive about taking a flyer on a fifty-quid rum.

Other notes

  • Video recap link
  • Sang Som distillery was founded in 1977, and is supposed to be the oldest in Thailand.  It is located in Nakhon Pathom province, which is just to the west of the capital, Bangkok.
  • That Rum Drinker and The Fat Rum Pirate both rated it the equivalent of 4 stars out of 10, which is about 70 points on my scale.
  • The Phraya brand was first established in 2011 by Sang Som Distillery, itself owned by the spirits conglomerate known as ThaiBev. The name derives from a old time title of Thai nobility and can still be found in other contexts, such as the Chao Phraya river that runs through Bangkok. In the brand lineup, there are three different editions: the “Elements” standard edition, the Elements 8YO, and then this premium release, the impressively named “Phraya Double Matured Gold Rum”, which is a blend of 7-12YO rums.
  • “Elements” is pretty much a branding and marketing term, and refers to the four ancient elements of reality – fire, air, earth and water – which impact the making of rum. Me, I think it’s occasionally something of a stretch, but ok. The important thing to note is that the rum derives from molasses made from Thai sugar cane, has a short fermentation time, is run through a multi-column still, then aged in charred ex-Bourbon barrels. The barrels are apparently stored next to a series of lagoons that (according to the company website) cool the ambient temperature and somewhat retard the tropical ageing process.

Phraya “Elements” 8YO Thailand Rum – Review

 No Responses »
Mar 132026
 

In a previous review I looked at the entry level Phraya aged rum from Thailand, called “Elements”, and this one is not too far distanced from that one, except in so far that it has a definitive age statement – 8 years. However, it is an ongoing blended rum, so there is not a year of distillation or bottling to be found anywhere – and, as the brand rep at the German Rum Festival remarked to me, it is a relatively new product, having been introduced in 2023, almost a decade after the original edition came to market. Clearly, then, the original “Elements” sold well enough to warrant something a bit more upscale.

Production details remain the same: molasses from local sugar, short fermentation time, column still distillation, aged in charred ex-bourbon barrels, released at standard strength (40%). In that sense it is something of a Cuban / Latin / Spanish style rum, though I see little evidence of a set of white haired old maestros roneros standing around like old bull elephants at a watering hole, tasting carefully, muttering to themselves and doing their careful blending and barrel magic, the way they do in Cuba and elsewhere.

Which leads us to the tasting notes of this eight year old rum, now that we know that age aside it’s not a thousand miles away from its predecessor. The nose is quite nice –  easy, unaggressive, rum like. It noses lightly sweet, with overripe red grapes, oranges, mangoes n the edge of going off, plus some honey, vanilla and cardamom. There’s a really faint briny and fusel oil note being hinted at, but it’s too vague to comer to grips with and disappears too fast.

The palate? Well, it’s better than the previous version, though this may be damning it with faint praise. Slightly dry, slightly sweet. Grapes, honey, coconut shavings, crushed walnuts, a hint of macha tea (weird, right?). Again, cardamom, vanilla, some dry polished leather and smoke and if there’s any bitterness from the oak it was aged in, I couldn’t spot it.  The same is true of the finish, which is short, easy, and gives little more than some light fruits, honey and, of course, the vanilla. Ho hum.

As with the original Phraya Elements, we’re looking at a decent midrange rum that yes, can be sipped, and yes it will please, and no, there’s nothing bad to say about it – my feeling is simply that like its predecessor, it breaks no new ground. Tasted blind, you wouldn’t discern any serious differences with other middling-aged rums from elsewhere. To be fair, the aromas and flavours come out cleanly and crisply, with just enough complexity to make it better than sweetened nonsense, yet simultaneously with too little of anything – intensity or originality – to make a serious statement for either itself or Thailand. Aside from its exotic location, then, I’d much rather take a Bacardi Ocho for its lesser price, and the Hampden 8YO for a more intense and better flavour profile, and if I was restricting myself to Thai rums only, well, Issan and Chalong bay would still get my bahts first.

(#1141)(81/100) (⭐⭐⭐½)

Other notes

  • Video recap link
  • Sang Som distillery was founded in 1977, and is supposed to be the oldest in Thailand.  It is located in Nakhon Pathom province, which is just to the west of the capital, Bangkok.
  • The Phraya brand was first established in 2011 by Sang Som Distillery, itself owned by the spirits conglomerate known as ThaiBev. The name derives from a old time title of Thai nobility and can still be found in other contexts, such as the Chao Phraya river that runs through Bangkok. In the brand lineup, there are three different editions: the “Elements” standard edition, the Elements 8YO (this one), and then their premium edition, the simply named “Phraya Rum”, which is a blend of 7-12YO rums.
  • “Elements” is pretty much a branding and marketing term, and refers to the four ancient elements of reality – fire, air, earth and water – which impact the making of rum. Me, I think it’s occasionally something of a stretch, but ok. The important thing to note is that the rum derives from molasses made from Thai sugar cane, has a short fermentation time, is run through a multi-column still, then aged in charred ex-Bourbon barrels for five to seven years. The barrels are apparently stored next to a series of lagoons that (according to the company website) cool the ambient temperature and somewhat retard the tropical ageing process.

Phraya “Elements” Thailand Rum – Review

 No Responses »
Mar 102026
 

With the release of the Shakara rum by Velier a couple of years ago, and small-distillery bottlings made by Chalong Bay and Issan, Thailand has come into the spotlight as an Asian rum producer to which we should perhaps be paying more attention. For now the rums we know about are made mostly by such small producers, because even the big guns in Asia are somewhat less known (or revered) in the west – Mekhong, Naga, Tanduay, and ThaiBev’s Sang Som are some of them.

To this stable has been added the Phraya brand, first established in 2011 by the above-mentioned Sang Som Distillery, itself owned by the spirits conglomerate known as ThaiBev. The name derives from a old time title of Thai nobility and can still be found in other contexts, such as the Chao Phraya river that runs through Bangkok. In the brand lineup, there are three different editions: the “Elements” which we are looking at today, the 8YO, and then their premium edition, the “Phraya Deep Matured Rum”, which is a blend of 7-12YO rums.

“Elements” is pretty much a branding and marketing term, and refers to the four ancient elements of reality – fire, air, earth and water – which impact the making of rum. Me, I think it’s occasionally something of a stretch, but ok. The important thing to note is that the rum derives from molasses made from Thai sugar cane, has a short fermentation time, is run through a multi-column still, then aged in charred ex-Bourbon barrels for five to seven years. The barrels  are apparently stored next to a series of lagoons that (according to the company website) cool the ambient temperature and somewhat retard the tropical ageing process.

I am not convinced that any of these aspects particularly help or hinder what in the end, is a perfectly serviceable mid range 40% ABV rum for those who aren’t ito the spirit, and not one that stands out in any significant way. The nose is pleasant: deep caramel and vanilla notes, toffee, light smokiness, underlain with black grapes, red wine, and the deep scent of overripe mangoes. There’s a touch of citrus to provide a little bite, but not much more. Sweet?  Not really.

The taste is similarly unadventurous: at standard strength we aren’t seeing much more than the nose already gave us: honey, vanilla, creme brulee, toffee, with lighter fruity notes, the vague crispness of lychees and lemon zest (and not a whole lot of that), then coconut shavings and some kind of cola. The finish is clean and light – syrup, caramel, honey, vanilla, and that’s just about it.

Of late I’ve wandered around the world and tried rums from as many countries as I can, hoping to find new and interesting products that take the spirit in interesting directions, if not actual new ones. For all its size and popularity in Asia, I’m afraid this Phraya isn’t really it – it’s on par with a young Havana Club or Bacardi, which is not surprising since the short-fermentation, column-still, barrel driven philosophy is the same for all of them. It’s a decent enough product, does not feel “sugared-up” at all, and can be had by itself, neat, as a hot-weather drink, sure. Unfortunately, that’s all it is, and any hopes we had for something a bit more off the reservation remain unfulfilled … for now.

(#1140)(79/100) (⭐⭐⭐)

Other notes

  • Video recap link
  • Sang Som distillery was founded in 1977, and is supposed to be the oldest in Thailand.  It is located in Nakhon Pathom province, which is just to the west of the capital, Bangkok.
  • Not many reviews out there.  Serge Valentin of WhiskyFun rated it 75 points.

Worthy Park Cane Juice High Ester Pot Still Rum (2024 Ed.) – Review

 No Responses »
Feb 272026
 

Jamaicans, while known for their white overproofs (think Hampden’s Rum Fire, J. Wray White Overproof and Worthy Park’s own Rum Bar) and of course their funkiness, are less famed for anything to do with cane juice. Yet, for once, here, we have a rip snorting 54% piece of cane juice derived liquid gelignite channeling both agricole purity and Jamaican funk-badassery, that causes innocent Caners to expire at the side of the road after taking a snootful. No, really

Unfortunately, this is something of a limited special edition, released on behalf of a NY based spirits distribution company called Skurnik Wine & Spirits, so it’s not part of the official lineup, though it is enclosed in a Worthy Park style bottle and is wrapped in a label we all recognize. But when you consider the specs – cane juice, 2-3 weeks’ fermentation, pot still distilled in 2024 on a double retort Forsythe’s pot still, 54%, unaged – you can see why it’s one of those white rums that is worth trying out. And for those who like to identify the marques, it’s WPE-CJN (Worthy Parke Extra from Cane Juice), with ester count up to 800 g/hL AA, placing it comfortable in the mid range of the Jamaican funky bastards, which some contend is also their sweet spot.

What this means, is that it’s at right angles to anything else coming out of Jamaica right now — if pressed, I’d say it was actually closer to that first Foursquare LFT white that came out a few years ago. And that was no slouch either, as you may recall.

Lest ye disbelieving snickerers raised on Bacardi Superior feel I doth jest, just take a sniff of the rum, and observe how it claws its way out of the bottle (hang on, give me a moment to stand clear). People, that pungent nose froths, it spits, it gurgles and it clearly wants your glottis for lunch. It immediately smells of new glue, bright glittering acetones, wax, bags of green olives, and enough salt to flavour a small inland sea. The sweetness tames that rough edge a little, and we can sense grass, herbs, sugar cane sap and more wax, before the light florals and some tart, nearly sour fruit take over: kiwi fruit, soursop, pineapple (ripe and sweet), green mangoes, lemon pickles.

Does it calm down and chill out when finally tasted? Not a chance. It’s every bit as elemental and rude as the nose promised it would be. Dry, waxy, slick with paraffin oil and kerosene (well – just a bit), more sharp sweetness but less olives, saved at the last by a warmer sense of biscuits and fresh pastries (think of pine tarts), croissants with butter, herbs and loads of citrus, like a good key lime pie with just a pinch of some sour sh*t thrown in. It’s a massive smorgasbord of everything but the kitchen sink, and merde, if you weren’t ready for this, you’d swear it was the kind of drink that would flatten all the beers in Munich if carelessly uncorked in the main square.

You know, recently, I tried a cheerfully addled 77% white from Below the Salt Distillery and what that one, the Foursquare LFT and this WP suggest, is that 54% might be just the right proof point for a product such as this. A higher strength would appeal only to hardcore high ester enthusiasts, and less would tame it to the point of imbecility. No, they got it just about right, I think.

So let me sum up, then: the WP High Ester is one of those rums which inspires the sort of incredulous prose that invites questions about whether I drank too much myself and self-lobotomized. Fair point, but come on: this is a pot still cane juice rum, it’s a high ester sarissa, it’s from Worthy effing Park – it cries out to be tried. It’s pungent and pugnacious to a fault, and if you’re a Jamaican rum fan, have tried a few hi-proofed agricoles and want to know what the fuss is about with funk or esters or cane juice … well, here you go.

(#1139)(86/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

Velier “Mother Mesccia” Pure Single Rum (Haiti/Monaco) – Review

 No Responses »
Feb 082026
 

Introduction

With respect to Velier’s 2025 released white rum called “Mother Mesccia”, it seems to be something of an adapted revival – it’s neither precisely old, nor precisely new. At best, it’s a re-interpretation of a product of yesteryear. But it is interesting, from a historical perspective if nothing else.

The way the story goes, back in the 17th century, Monaco – then a Mediterranean trading hub –  often bought rum from Genoese sailors returning from the Caribbean, (they exchanged it for local citrus fruits to ward off the vitamin-C deficiency known as scurvy). This rum was then blended with two fortified wine types: Italian vermouth (a botanicals-infused product) and Sicilian Marsala, and the resultant called mesccia, or mixture. It seems to predate the rum verschnitt of northern Germany, and is coexistent with the traditional eastern European spirits (and “rooms”) that often add flavouring agents to base alcohol. Gradually, the practise of making mesccia faded as Monaco ceased being a major trading port and shifted its economic emphasis to tourism and gambling in the mid 1800s. Still, mesccia was seen, in the Principality if nowhere else, as something of a local institution, and was never entirely forgotten.

In the early 2000s, Prince Albert II of Monaco wanted to revive the practise, but after a few initial attempts failed for quality and other issues, he consulted with Luca Gargano, who runs Velier. Perhaps the choice was logical – Monaco has been ruled by the Genoese-originating Grimaldi family since the 12th century, there was always much trade between the two states, so there’s that connection; and given the historical nature of the project, you can see why the concept would appeal to Luca. He is, after all, known for reimagining spirits-making ideas that predate today’s commercialized mass-market industrial products, and for pushing rum in new directions based on older, more rural traditions.

Production Process

The rum is made from Haitian crystalline sugar cane grown, crushed and fermented on Michel Sajous’s place at Saint-Michel-de-l’Attalaye, and run through his 380-liter Mueller pot still, resulting in a first run distillate of about 22-34% ABV. This is then shipped in drums to Monaco, where it is distilled a second time to 47% in a Khote hybrid still at L’Orangerie / Distillerie de Monaco. This is a distillery – apparently the only one in the Principality – founded in 2017; it makes mostly gin, botanicals and orange liqueurs, and its master distiller, Philip Colazzo, follows artisanal production methods, something else you just know would appeal to Luca.

That said, it’s important to understand three things. 

One, the cutting of the heads and tails is done in Monaco, which some regard as one of the main reasons the final product can be considered as being produced in the Principality (by virtue of its creativity and the needed skillset). The point is, to my mind, debatable — and if anything, muddies the water as to where a rum can truly be said to originate even more.

Secondly, in today’s regulated climate, to reproduce the original recipe of Mesccia cannot be done while still naming the final product a rum. Velier got around this by ageing the final product in ex-Marsala and ex-vermouth wine barrels. It is, as such, its own product, and even Luca admits that it’s not a completely faithful recreation of the way it once was made.

Thirdly, the specific rum we’re looking at today is not aged. The notes above refer to the process that will be instituted for rums to be released in the future, and so this is the base, origin product, the first run distillate – which is why calling it the “Mother Mesccia” is actually completely accurate. One wonders if subsequent releases will be called “sons” or “daughters”, though maybe that’s just my obscure sense of humour at work.

Tasting notes.

In fine, what we have is a double distilled, unaged, Haitian clairin-type rum, irrespective of where the distillation took place, bottled at 47%. 

Certainly it has a Sajous kind of cane-juice vibe, and I remember my first encounter with it with good memories. Much of the character of that the Sajous clairins have always displayed remains: it has initial scents of grass, paper, glue, wax and sawdust, to which are then added some tawny sweet notes of coconut shavings, papaya, melons, cherries, and watermelon rind. There is also a briny note to it all, olives and raw honey dropping from the comb, with the whole aroma being earthy, sweet, salty and surprisingly dry.

Much of this also translates on to the plate, where the 47% dials down the ferociousness that some clairins love to display. Again, it tastes sweetish, grassy, green and there are initially florals and pears and guavas all over the place Yes, it remains briny, even if the olives start to recede a bit, and there’s a nice, if faint, pickled cabbage note there that I quite liked, plus just a trace of vanilla and sugar water. It’s a touch sharp, yet I argue that’s too its benefit – too smooth would destroy some of the aggro that such rums have always displayed, and if we wanted light and smooth, well, there’s always the Bacardi Superior, right? The finish is easy enough, a little hot, sweet, briny, and displaying a last fgine citrus note for edge that closes off the experience quite well.

Thoughts

As a product trying to muscle  into an ever more crowded rum space, I think we should regard it as something of an experimental shot across the bows, issued to see what comes out of this bold idea and what the interest is, while the barrels age and the result is examined over the next years. It’s too early to tell where the line will land.

But as a rum in and of itself, I’m somewhat conflicted. It lacks the elemental punch and power of a true 100% Haitian clairin, or the elegant smoothness of a well made rhum agricole like, oh Neisson or Saint James. Its closest analogue outside of Haiti might actually be Saint James’s pot still Coeur de Chauffe, and that’s a compliment, believe me. 

So, it is a decent enough rum in its own right, and I liked it, which is why I assign the score that I do.  I just fail to see where this is going, or why, outside the ambitions of Monaco’s leader, or the enthusiasm of one of the world’s premiere rum educators, to make it at all. But outside my personal opinion, which I will treat separately (see below), I must admit to being enthused and interested and intrigued, all at once, and I respect Velier’s rum chops enormously – and on that basis, I think that it’s a rum that should be tried, for sure; and watched in the years to come, to see where it goes.

(#1138)(85/100) ⭐⭐⭐½

Other notes

Opinion

In my personal notes jotted down as I was trying it and listening to the backstory, I commented that I didn’t “get it”. That has nothing to do with the profile, which is just fine, but more based on my wondering why Velier went through all this admittedly fascinating trouble, to make a rum that is difficult to place precisely in the canon.

Something like the much remarked on still-on-a-boat idea, it’s just unclear to me why all this effort is being made. The double-country-distillation makes it neither fish nor fowl, but a brand new product about which we don’t know what to think. Is it a clairin? A European rum? A new blend? How does one even classify such a product? How does it fit within the ongoing debate of where a rum is from? Why was it issued – was it truly just a desire to create a branded, almost defunct Monaco spirit? And was that Luca’s motive for agreeing to be involved? I wonder.

Because you see, when one considers the clear directions and themes of Velier’s other famed releases – Demeraras, Caronis, Clairins, Indian Ocean, Hampdens, Foursquare collaborations, Nine Leaves, the HV pot still examinations – with these you can see a sure hand at the tiller, a sense of single minded focus that leaves little room for doubt. They each examined one type or class of rum and did it damned well, which is why they have the reputation they do. 

Yes we did have one-off releases like the Damoiseau 1980, or the MMW/EMB Monymusks and STCE/VR/TECA and TECC Longponds – yet even there, I argue that they had a point they all wanted to make, and that’s what I feel is missing here. Like the flag series of rums done with LM&V, or the Magnums – which, for all their beauty and quality did not really stretch the rumiverse or introduce something new – it seems to be reaching for purpose, and no, imperfectly recreating a historical spirit (or re-imagining one) doesn’t really strike me as good enough. Any standard agricole does about as well, and it’s insufficiently crazy to make me run out and buy a few extra bottles. I’d buy it because it’s Velier, and because it really is quite good, but the doubt remains.

 

La Maison Du Rhum Fortin Distillery 2007 13YO Rum Batch 3 (Paraguay) – Review

 No Responses »
Feb 022026
 

Among South American rums, some countries just don’t make waves outside their own borders. How many of us have heard of Gran Chaco from Bolivia, or Isla Ñ and Tickerman from Argentina, for example? In Paraguay, the source of today’s review, we’ve been fortunate once before to try the “Herocia” from the Fortin brand, and here we have another one from the distillery of origin (see below for details), brought to us courtesy of La Maison du Rhum in France – this is in turn a 2017-founded brand of the French spirits distributor Dugas, and may be the only way we’re ever going to get a rum from such a relatively obscure (in rum terms) product.

The production notes are as follows, and have not appreciably changed since the original Heroica review. The rum is made from rendered sugar cane juice (“honey”), fermented for 72 hours using wild yeast, column distilled, then aged in a American ex-bourbon barrels, then given a few months’ additional finishing in Fino sherry casks, so it seems reasonable to suppose it’s double aged: in Paraguay and then in Europe. Given the outturn of nearly 4,000 bottles, I believe that LMdR got the final blended product and that part had some European ageing, including the finish, for a total of 13 years (but this is not for sure, since Fortin also does finishing). Released at a middling 45% ABV. Oh, and it should be noted that this is Batch #3 – as of early 2026 I think they are up to #6, all bottled in the forties ABV range.

This is where an indie bottling (which this is) gets more respect for disclosure that Fortin did – by a whisker. That is, unfortunately, not enough to elevate it over and above its sibling, even with the more serious age and the finish. Consider the nose. This is dusty and rather dry (the sherry influence helps here). Initial dry notes of cardboard, straw and damp tobacco, mix it up with vanilla, cinnamon, honey. A trace of glue and salted caramel, and if one strains, perhaps a touch of citrus and mango. 

Taste? Meh. Not much more here – the dryness persists, there’s some grapes, and glue, the mangoes (or is that pineapple?) hints are back, and beyond that it’s all the standard hits of a barrel aged rum – caramel, toffee, some coffee grounds, wet ashes, honey, cinnamon, vanilla and mild cigar smoke, all tied up with an unenthusiastic and quick finish that is as straightforward as all the preceding tastes, and adds nothing new to the party.

Honestly, even at 45%, it’s nothing special, and as I have noted before, any rum based on sugar cane juice – actual or rendered down – loses its connection to the terroire with prolonged barrel ageing, which is exactly what happens here. So one is left to wonder what the selling point of a rum so ordinary really is. The unusual country of origin? The bottler?

The original Heroica was bottled at 40% and that more or less failed – perhaps I was generous with that 79 point score back in 2020. Here, even at five proof points higher, it still doesn’t do much and scores a point less. For those who enjoy the easier, lighter Latin style of rum making, sure, why not? For those who like their uncompromising cask strength growlers, I’d suggest that even with La Maison’s imprimatur on the label, the ultimate result is a rum that is slickly made, nicely labelled, but buggy in execution, reminding me of nothing more than a premature software update which does nothing in particular and relies on the brand to sell.

(#1137)(78/100) ⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

Background

Paraguay — one of two landlocked countries in South America is something of a newcomer on the international rum scene, and most of the rums they have made that are distributed abroad have only come on the scene in the last two decades — previously, just about the entire production was local, or regional. So far they have stuck with the traditional rons and not gone too far off the reservation. All that is now changing, as they begin to seek a space on the export shelf.

Fortin, the overall brand of the distillery called Castilla, dates from the post-1989 era and takes advantage of a change in legislation regarding alcohol at that time. From 1941 to 1989 the production and sale of alcohol (and spirits) was a state monopoly, run by the Paraguayan Alcohol Corporation in which the Government and producers both had stakes.  Officially this was to rationalize standards, assign quotas, regulate competition and prevent tax evasion, but in reality it was to ensure the commercial elites went into business with the government to share in / siphon off the revenues.  After Alfredo Stroessner (the last of a series of military jefes ruling since the 1930s) was toppled in 1989 the laws were relaxed and private industry began to revive. 

Castilla Distillery was formed around 1993 as a sugar producer by Gustavo Díaz de Vivar, and although it started in Capiatá area to the immediate SE of the capital, Asunción, the company soon moved further east to the town of Piribebuy; after the sugar business took off, he and his son Javier Díaz de Vivar (the current president of the company) diversified into rum production with a multi-column still bolted onto the already existing sugar factory they had built..

The distillery is located on a small estate of about 1,500 hectares (~3700 acres) where the sugarcane is grown. The cane is cultivated according to organic farming principles and is apparently manually harvested. They age in all kinds of barrels – American oak (ex-bourbon), cognac, sherry, and also Marcuya “fruit of passion” wood from Paraguay.  Once that’s done, the resultant rons are blended to form the final product and released under the Fortin label, or, perhaps, sold on to brokers and intermediaries in Europe for the independent bottling scene.

Rum Club Private Selection #60 Galapagos Islands 2015 10YO Rum (Ecuador) – Review

 3 Responses »
Jan 122026
 

The practise of wine and spirits merchants releasing their own branded products is a long and storied one, going back more than a century (think of Berry Bros. and Rudd, Doorly’s, Goslings, or even Masters of Malt, as just a few examples). They acted, therefore, as progenitors and continuations of the indie bottling scene that has so defined the upscale market in the modern rumiverse.

One of the best of such shops in Germany is undoubtedly Dirk Becker’s Rum Depot in Berlin, which I have been visiting on and off since 2012 and remains a favourite stopping place of mine. That same year, they began releasing single cask bottlings under their own brand called Rum Club Private Selection, and have steadily added to the stable until they just arrived at #60 in 2025, with this highly unusual bottling from – and yes, it really is – the Galapagos Islands in the Pacific Ocean, and I’ve provided a bit more in-depth background below the review for those who are interested and asking wtf? (as I did).

Stats: distilled in 2015 from sugar cane juice and double distilled in a pot still (it may actually be a trapiche), then set to age in situ for ten years — the barrels are not mentioned, though we can reasonably assume ex-bourbon. How precisely it got into Rum Depot’s stocks – whether a direct purchase on the island or via a broker as part of a batch, is unknown. The label makes mention of “one of a few barrels” which makes it unlikely to be a bulk sale (e.g. an iso-container that was later decanted), but whatever the case, the rum came from one barrel, and has an outturn of 325 bottles, at a solid 49.6%.

What I liked about it right off the bat is that it had that vaguely rough vibe of an artisanal back-country rum that’s not quite smoothened out by decades of commercial manufacturing experience. It immediately gave off fumes of dialled-down Jamaican funkiness – orange rind, overripe pineapples, gooseberries, pickled cabbage, glue and plastic – and here I think the middling strength worked well to tamp it down. It also presented vanilla, cinnamon, cardamom, a slight musky sweetness, like Indian kheer, leavened with the faint bitterness of black chocolate. And here I must point out that that the crisp vegetal tang of a true agricole really wasn’t very noticeable, which is somewhat surprising.

Tasting it confirmed that impression. It landed nice and firm, no sharp scratchiness here. Immediate notes of light citrus, soda-pop (say, 7-Up), cola, vanilla and the sour hint of both overripe fruits (gooseberries and pineapple and mango) and pickled cabbage. Once it opens up you can detect some brininess, tartness, funkiness, dark cherries, and a touch of honey. Not as complex as the nose suggests, yet it quietly shines in its own way, and if the finish is a little spicy and goes away too fast – final notes of caramel, vanilla, cinnamon, unsweetened chocolate again, light citrus and kefir – it’s by no means a slouch.

So what did I think?  Well, I’m a bit conflicted. Strictly speaking, this is an agricole style rum (off a pot still, no less), yet much of the grassy and herbal profile of rhums from Reunion or the Caribbean French Islands, is mostly AWOL. One would be hard pressed to call it for what it was if tasted blind, and this reinforces my belief that there is a diminishing return on cane juice rums once they are aged past a certain point, after which the barrel influence is simply too pervasive and the terroire and originality starts to go.

Taken on its own terms, it’s pretty good, though. The strength is solid, the tastes are a lovely amalgam of salt and sweet and sour with just a bit of green funk thrown in for good measure —  and if perhaps the terroire is not as clear as we might like, everything else is really well integrated into the alcohol and the overall texture and mouthfeel. It’s like a cross between a lightly-aged Jamaican, a young Guyanese without the lumber, and, yes, if one reaches, some sweet cane juice rhum notes too. For €65 or so, there is no reason not to get it, not least because… well, come on, the Galapagos?  Who else can lay claim to having something from there, right? It’s unusual and has great production specs, from a place we know little about, and is a damned enjoyable drink. Taking that  into consideration, I’d suggest that if you can, and if Dirk hasn’t sold out yet, go get yourself a bottle.

(#1136)(85/100) ⭐⭐⭐½

Other notes

  • Video review link
  • There aren’t many reviews out there for the rum – most of what I see is quick notes left on Rum-X or online stores. I guess that the limited release and its specialized nature make it more likely to appeal to collectors or serious geeks (or certifiable reviewers).
  • Given the ecological status of the islands, and since they are protected as part of Ecuador’s Galápagos National Park and Marine Reserve, it’s reasonable to ask – is there really a distillery there, or is it from Ecuador, of which the islands are a province? Well – yes. There is a outfit called El Trapiche Ecologico Galapagos, which is a tiny family-run artisanal farm and distillery located in the highlands of Santa Cruz Island, and is a popular tourist destination. But it seems to be more an organic operation that grows coffee, cocoa and sugar cane and does some distillation on the side. It was once known as Darwin’s Lab, Dirk told me, and research suggests it is now more involved with environmental and ecological matters than distillation proper. What is interesting about it is that Johan Romero, who does run a full fledged family-owned distillery in Quito (many independent bottlers’ Ecuadorean rums come from here), helped build that trapiche and advised on cane, fermentation and distillation. 

Mount Gay Single Estate Blended 5YO Rum (Release #1, 2023) – Review

 1 Response »
Jan 022026
 

Introduction

Perhaps it was inevitable. The spirits market has been on a downturn since COVID receded and rum has been hit hard. Several mid range indies have gone under or are having financial woes, while the bigger and well known big name producers – Mount Gay, Appleton, DDL et al – are being forced to do some belt tightening of their own, or trying to expand into newer product niches where the sales are smaller and costs higher, but potential margins are larger.  Such new entrants to the field seek to stand out via new production methods, different ageing, or just some difference in branding to distinguish themselves in the premium space. And, in this case, to accentuate the value of terroire.

Mount Gay’s Single Estate bottlings is doing a bit of all of this. Known mostly for blends up and down the value chain, from the Eclipse series to the premium 1703 to the more recent (and upscale) experimentals, finished rums and Master Blender’s series, Mount Gay seems to have taken inspiration from the forceful imagination of their master blender Trudiann Branker and the production team; from the labelling and transparency ethos that have become a new standard; and the desire to move upscale with something at right angles to their more popular mass market releases.

What we have, then, is the Single Estate series, which debuted to much fanfare in 2023 and, shorn of all the marketing ballyhoo, is all about terroire and the taste profile of cane and molasses deriving from the island itself (for the benefit of those who are unaware, most Caribbean islands that are not making agricoles import molasses from elsewhere to make their signature rums).

Production Notes

The molasses derives from Mount Gay’s own sugar cane fields, which by itself is a new development, dating back to 2015 when they bought 324 acres of nearby farmland and began growing their own cane there. The acreage isn’t a whole lot – certainly insufficient for their global production output – but it does allow limited special editions like this one to be made. 

The rum deriving from this stock is the first release in 2023 (as of 2025 there are four), and it’s a blend of 5- and 6-year old rums produced from the 2016 and 2017 harvest, 9 days’ fermentation, 100% pot still, and then ex-bourbon barrel aged, with a final release of this batch, of 55% ABV. The dark decanter, very similar to in shape to the 1703, is made with 70% recycled glass. The outturn is mid range, and varies from release to release: this one, I read on Robbreport, is just over 4,000 bottles total, of which 1200 is allocated to the US (no idea how much Canada got, but I haven’t seen any there yet).

Tasting Notes

At 55% ABV, the aromas are quite firm, and very aggressive right off the bat (in a good way). There are notes of kimchi, golden, light and crisp, almost agricole-like in its clean light aromas. Tawny scents of ginger, tobacco, soursop, lychees, dragon fruit all follow in rapid succession and the real difficulty is in just keeping up with what billows out of the glass. Slightly muskier tones start to creep in – figs, dates, soya sauce, some freshly grated coconut, and overall it smells clean, light, mildly sweet, with just enough sour to perk up the nose and keep you paying attention. Oh and before it’s over, you are also getting green mangoes, tamarind and (I swear I’m not making this up) burnt jerk chicken. 

On the palate, well, it does settle down quite a bit, as if afraid of its own temerity at going off the reservation —  and it becomes something much more traditional. Burnt orange peel, vanilla, Worcestershire sauce, green grapes, ashes, char (maybe from charred barrels) and the standard attendants of caramel, toffee, chocolate and maybe a bit of wet coffee grounds make their appearance as well. Even the finish, which is often hit or miss with too many MG rums I’ve tried (including those released by indies), is pretty damned fine, medium long, redolent of citrus, chocolate oranges, toffee, vanilla, nutmeg, and the faintest touch of yogurt and cinnamon sticks.

Wrapping it up, then…

At first blush, which is to say within the first five minutes of tasting it, it’s hard to distinguish it from a true agricole – really! It has that same light, clean, green serpentine clarity to it. It’s only after wrestling it to the ground and ignoring the twisting coils of sweetness and grass, that one sees what it’s really made of – and that’s really, really good. 

If it has a weakness is that I don’t actually think it represents the terroire of Barbados generally, or Mount Gay specifically, particularly well, if at all — though I concede this may simply be because we’ve rarely had an opportunity to do so before, given that distilleries on the island mostly import their molasses from elsewhere. I’ve read some reviews that remark on it not really “being all that” for a blend of five and six year old rums, costing as much as it does, which is another fair point. What I did was ignore the cost, ignored the presentation, dispensed with the marketing and promotion, and just looked at the rum as a rum 2.  And so, stripped of everything extraneous, putting away any expectations engendered by price or age or reputation … what’s was it like then?  

Well, perhaps I’m in a minority here… but I think it’s really kind of marvellous. The nose is complex, the palate is well balanced, the tastes are great and it’s just different enough to enthuse without veering too far from more familiar tastes. Based purely on smell and taste, it’s a very good rum. One can only hope that subsequent editions maintain this level of quality…or exceed it.

(#1135)(88/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

  • Video recap link
  • I like the label, a lot. There’s something quite simple and elegant about the design, and what the label itself doesn’t say, is available from the QR code that takes you to Mount Gay’s dedicated page for the rum, and there you are greeted with a plethora of information that is all we could ever want. Kudos to MG for providing it all.
  • Note the alphanumeric code that’s so prominently displayed. 23 | 01 | Bn_Qa. The 23 stands for year of release (not distillation), the 01 is the Batch number and the Bn_Qa stands for “bourbon barrels” and American oak barrels, or Quercus Alba. As a person who believes the rumworld should develop a global, generic, easy to understand labelling code that’s consistent around the world for all producers from all countries, I love this kind of thing, and believe that it could, and should – even must –  be implemented and expanded. Matt Pietrek wrote an interesting article on the subject which may be worth re-reading.

Opinion

I believe that yes, the cost of the bottle is too high. Don’t get me wrong, as a bean counter and numbers guy, I understand that the costs of production have to be recouped, margins maintained.  But man, the current price for £350 in the UK and something equivalent in Europe, four hundred bucks in the US… for a rum less than ten years old, even dressed up so prettily, that’s a hard sell. 

Given Remy Cointreau’s rather deep pockets, I would have expected them to okay a marginal or even breakeven price point, just to win more rapid acceptance. Maybe they could have let their lower tier brand items subsidize it for a while – so, say, £200 would not be out to lunch for something of such limited release, strength and provenance.

Connoisseurs who know why the price is at that level, would snap it up.  But the current tag is simply unconscionable, no matter the logic and economic reality.  The danger of setting such and exorbitant charge on the consumer is that too many will be put off by it, too few will buy it, and that might kill this series before it finds serious acceptance. That leaves only collectors, and for the rest of us proles, well, we’re deprived of something really quite special.

Habitation Velier Mhoba 2025 Unaged White Rum (EU release)(South Africa)

 2 Responses »
Dec 212025
 

White unaged rums are often seen by the larger mass market audience or their suppliers — somewhat unfairly, I believe – as something of a niche market, fit only for cocktails. The idea that one might sip them neat is perhaps only an enthusiast’s conceit. Yet I believe that for those who want to know serious terroire, and see what can happen when a rum is taken off the leash and left to run around terrorizing innocent rum drinkers, HV’s white rum may be just what they’re looking for.

There are two variations of this white unaged brutalist rum from Velier’s pot-still-only series (the Habitation Velier line) out there: one is for the American market, 62% with an insane 3000+ g/hlpa congeners (remember, Jamaica’s maximum 1600 g/hlpa DOK is not a global standard, just theirs); the other is for the European market which is 66.2% ABV and with 839 g/hlpa congeners.  One could argue the latter might damage you somewhat less, if you exclude those who want to go over the very bleeding edge.

As is usual with the Habitation Velier rums, the labels are small masterpieces of minimalist decor and art: a delicate watercolour of the distillation apparatus, dates of distillation and bottling, strength, country, company, congener level, the works. We’re getting all the hits in a way that doesn’t so much set a standard as show the basic info which aficionados want in a format that’s eye candy for everyone.

From that, we gather that the Mhoba white rum was issued in 2025 as part of the Habitation Velier line. It derives from cane juice, wild fermented between secen to ten days, run through a pot still, remains unaged, is bottled at 66.2%, and apparently dissatisfied with just being a strong overproof, they jacked up the congener count just because, y’know, they could.

Mhoba, founded in 2013 in South Africa, is well regarded for its way of combining rock solid rum making with occasional off the reservation efforts, and have themselves produced quite a few exceptional releases (aged or unaged) from the pot still that Rober Greaves, the founder, put together himself. Since I have gone into some detail regarding their history here and here, I won’t rehash it again. 

And so, that leads us to the tasting notes.  Well, in short, it leaves one gasping. It’s intense as hell. The nose goes from zero to stink in two seconds flat, surging out with scents of hogo, anise, bags of salt and more olives than a Middle Eastern olive grove. It smells like a Clairin Sajous amped up and supercharged and transported to South Africa from the wilds of the Haiti, reeking of wax, rubber, whole fruit orchards, pineapples, rotten oranges, laban and faint whiffs of sour cream, all, by some subtle alchemy, coming together into something wholly original. It’s by no means unpleasant – but it does take some getting used to, and for sure there’ll be many who shudder and push it away after a sniff, for the same reason others will admire it.

The palate goes on from there, with zero pause. The strength makes it sharp, sure, but it’s a sort of crisp firmness rather than the scratch of a libidinous tomcat’s claws. We can taste glue, rubber, and tart fruit, yoghurt, and when it comes to the fruits, there’s a lot of everything here – grapes, oranges, peaches, green unripe apples, a plum or two, red grapefruit, combined with anise and the clean scent of the ocean. Take some time and other flavours edge out from the sides: mossy wooden forest floors after a rain, some meaty, faintly rancid and very hogo-ish notes, that kind of thing. Aside from that clairin-like aspect to it, it also reminds me somewhat of the original TECA, it has that same sense of batshit crazy untamed wildness to it, leading to a long, crisp finish that finally channels more of the cane juice side of things: same meatiness and overripe fruits as before, joined by herbs, green grass, sugar water and papaya.

Whew! – that’s quite a rum. There’s a lot going on here, as the tasting notes show, yet this very same originality and complexity may turn off those who prefer softer, more traditional, molasses-based profiles that aren’t quite as insane, One drinks, after all, for a good time, not necessarily to peek into the abyss of what a still, a high congener count and a certifiable bottler can come up with just because that day they felt like doing something different. Me, I liked it, quite a bit.

It’s to Velier’s credit (and that of Mhoba) that they’re never afraid to go wherever the rum leads – they stretch the boundaries of the rumworld quite a bit. For Luca, part of this is educational, as I’ve remarked before, but part of it also just sheer, unbridled enthusiasm. They want to be the first. They want to showcase weird sh*t. They are absolutely mental about introducing us to stuff we’ve barely even heard of before, or taking existing work and twisting it into a Grand-Guignol-inspired pretzel. These guys fearlessly run headfirst and heedlessly into the wall just to see if they can go through it and leave a Luca-shaped hole in the damned thing.

With the Mhoba 2025, I think distiller and bottler achieved all of the above. It’s too insane to crack ninety points, for all its puissance and power, but it takes its place proudly, even defiantly with the Sajous and the TECA and their like, as one of the most startling, original rums it’s been my dubious pleasure to try. Say what you will about whites, overproofs, lack of ageing or a cranked up flavour profile, this thing has serious character, and is well worth sampling — if only to say you’ve tried it the one time.

(#1134)(86/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

Erie Distillery White Rum (USA) – Review

 1 Response »
Oct 192025
 

Recently, a rum that crossed my path was the US-made Erie White Rum, which is made in NE Pennsylvania by the Erie distillery, founded in 2019 by a Mr. David Harkness. This is a gentleman who has been playing with distillation since 2007, and he seems to be something of a cheerful mad scientist, experimenting with products as varied as limoncello, moonshines, whiskey, white rum, and vodka. In that way, he reminds me of some of the New Australians, who also go all over the map with their products so as to sell to just about anything to anyone who might want a drink.

That said, it’s unclear what the production process is and what the white rum is all about. The company website rather unhelpfully doesn’t mention where the molasses comes from (assuming that’s the base material for the rum – I think it’s likely); or what kind of still they have, or whether rum is truly unaged or aged and then filtered… you know, all the usual stuff you’d think anyone who is paying attention to the rum world would provide as a minimum. On FB and some news articles, however, I found that it’s a 8-inch-diameter, 9-foot-tall, 9-plate single-column stainless steel still that can pump out 95% ABV vodka, so, okay. The company seems to concentrate on whiskey more than anything else — rum, as is not unusual in the USA, being something of an afterthought.

Bottled at an inoffensive 40%, what we get is a nose that is at first blush watery and as mild as milquetoast, that takes the better part of fifteen minutes to open up just enough so we can sense other things. Those are, for the most part some lime scented sugar water, a touch of pickled cabbages (think kimchi), and as time wears on, more assertive lemon wedges can be smelled more distinctly. I had this one glass on the go for an hour, and let me tell you, what I’m writing here sounds simple, but it really did take that long to tease them out.

No help on the palate, I’m afraid. The rum’s mouthfeel was thin and scratchy, channeling the scrawny ferocity of an underfed alley cat. It tasted of sugar water, lime zest (or lemon – it’s close), more sour cabbage, cucumbers and white pepper, and no real fruitiness to speak of beyond some papaya and watery pears — and people, I’m reaching for that. No surprises, the finish was gone in a flash, with little to remember it by.  

Overall, it reminds me more of lemon flavoured vodka than a rum, there’s so little to set it apart. I am at a loss to explain that citrus-forward flavour, unless they did not clean out the still properly after making a batch of limoncello (in that way, it reminded me of El Destilado’s Mexican Aguardiente de Panela and the carryover of pine notes). That citrus note is fine, up to a point, but that’s all there really is and the other aromas and flavours are so meek that it comes off as milder than water, and about as interesting as a blank sheet of paper.

Think of all those small and passionate distillers in countries around the world — South Africa, rural Mexico, the clairins of Haiti, grogues of Cabo Verde, or the tiny distilleries in Laos, Viet Nam, Cambodia, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, to name but a few — and meditate on the difference between their successes or even their magnificent failures, and this relatively indifferent product.  When I see so many small micros from everywhere and anywhere try like hell to innovate, make something startling and new, all while adhering to tried and true traditions and wring serious magic from small stills held together by Bata flip flops, baling wire and some superglue, you can understand my impatience with the slapdash work Erie has put out here.

Sorry, but it’s a pass for me.

(#1133)(72/100) ⭐⭐½

Other notes

Opinion 

People think I enioy writing snarky reviews of rums that (on occasion) they themselves might like, made by small local distilleries which some believe should be supported as they get their sh*t up to scratch. Admittedly, low-rent, indifferently-made rums are fun to eviscerate and taking the language for a spin is occasionally enjoyable, but the truth is somewhat more nuanced.

For one, much as I believe that harsh criticism sometimes just has to be made, I don’t like taking apart the efforts of some new enterprise that’s employing people and trying to survive. Also, as an advocate for the spirit, I know it’s not always possible to make good hooch right out of the gate, much as I might want them to do better, so I do try to be optimistic and cut such joints some slack.

But, if you’ve been playing around with distillation for over a decade before starting a commercial enterprise, I would expect that you know what you’re doing (think of Robert Greaves of Mhoba, Keri Algar of Carabita, or Yoshi Takeuchi of Nine Leaves, as examples). I dislike subpar work tossed off just to round out the spirits portfolio and the “good ‘nuff” mentality that presupposes any rum bottled at 40% can find its legs and its market with a minimum of effort. 

And I don’t care overmuch for brands that put completely anonymous fare out the door, tell you almost nothing about it and hope sales will allow them to get better over time, when it’s clear no real thought went into crafting a decent rum in the first place – so, they went in with a hope and prayer and we have to subsidize improvement while they figure things out? That’s a hard bottle to sell, to me.

 

El Dorado Single Still “Enmore” Cask Strength 2009 12YO Rum – Review

 2 Responses »
Oct 102025
 

There are three of these cask strength single-still editions from El Dorado, one from each of the famed “heritage” wooden stills: Versailles, Port Mourant and Enmore. All are full proof, all are very exacting, and all point to the evolution of El Dorado into the premium rum space previously seen to be inhabited mostly by independent bottlers (occasionally  issued halo rums by producers don’t count). 

Although there had been movements to issuing still-specific rums before (most notably the Rares in 2015-2018) one never got the impression DDL’s heart was in it: the outturns were too small, people were not initially receptive, and because the bottles were different they were not always known to be from DDL, so sales were lacklustre and they fell by the wayside. The aha! moment (my opinion) came just after COVID, when we began to see the stubby brown bottles and similar labels as the Standard Line, start to come to market.

There are two versions of these three rums: one set is at 40%, which I mostly ignore, though I’ve tried them. And the others are at cask strength, that are much more expressive and to me, give a truer insight into the stills’ output. We’ve looked at the 2009 PM edition before, so now let’s turn our attention to the Enmore from the same year, also a 12 YO, and at 54.3% ABV

Tasting notes: well, it starts off nosing quite nicely: sweet, warm aromatic wood, earth, caramel, honey, yoghurt, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, sort of like an old confectionary shop in winter. It smells of some light sawdust and wood chips, but also (get this) gummi bears, crushed walnuts. peanut brittle (!!), and also some bitterness of tannins and unsweetened dark chocolate and coffee grounds. And lurking behind it like a Beagle Boy with a cosh in his hand is a faint whiff of meatiness, which is odd, I grant you, but far from unpleasant – in fact, the only thing missing here is the slight tart and acidic bite of citrus.

The palate is dry and slightly sweet (I like that). The same bitterness of wood chips, wet sawdust and a used coffee filter, but also bags of really dark fruits: prunes, raisins, plums for the most part, with maybe some overripe dark cherries, and even and olive or two.  The woodiness seems a bit more prevalent here in spite of the balancing earthy and spice tones, and once again there is an absence of countervailing bite which certainly will take some getting used to, especially for those who like agricoles or blended Latin style rons. The finish is pretty good, lasting a decent long time, warm and earthy and spicy, with more chocolate and coffee, raisins and some honey to back it up. This is a rum of the country that really does a spiffing job, honestly – I liked it a lot.

I am going to score this at 89, but advise readers to be careful with that number: it’s based on the experience I’ve had with scores of rums from Guyana over the years, so I know why I award the points. The rum is excellent, showcases the still wonderfully, and has that sense of individualistic and unique character which I personally prize: however, for those whose experience or preferences bend towards softer and more carefully blended rums from Guyana (like the standard lineup of 5, 8, 12, 15 and 21 year olds) may find a single still offering to be too  strange, or different, for easy drinking.  One should, I believe, have a decent knowledge of the heritage stills to appreciate their uniqueness, because although the stills’ qualities are evident here, so are some of the weaknesses, the same weaknesses that have heretofore led DDL to always blend them, never release them individually.  

That may be because distillate from the Enmore still takes some time to get to the point, and some effort by the distillers to bring to its full potential. It’s always been hit or miss for me, some succeeding, others not quite making it, with few editions truly ascending to the heights, and those that do are almost all from the indie bottlers. For my money, here, DDL really has managed to come out with something almost as good as the Rare Edition R2 1990 20 year old, younger and at a lesser price. Others may disagree, but with this cask strength edition, DDL has captured that elusive lightning in the bottle, and made a Demerara style rum that really is a cut above the ordinary. Anyone who tries it will likely leave with a greater appreciation of not only the single barrel expressions (at whatever strength) but why they are so special.

(#1132)(89/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Other notes

  • Video recap link
  • It is the upswing of the rum drinking public’s interest  in those stills’ outputs by independent bottlers (most notably Velier, though they were not the first), that led DDL to head in this direction, first with the 2007 “cricket bat” rums, 12- and 15-year old “wine finished” editions, the Rare Editions, then the Experimental “Blended in the Barrel” releases… and now these. My advice for those who are genuinely curious and now diving into these waters, is to go for the 40% expressions (which are also cheaper), rather than going straight for the full proof line. 
 Older Entries