Nov 112024
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(#1099)(86/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

Oct 142024
 

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

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

2021 Edition

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

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

2020 Edition

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

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

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

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


(#1094)(85/100) ⭐⭐⭐½

Other notes

  • Video Recap is here
  • From Day 2 of the 2023 Australian Advent Calendar 
  • The main cane variety used is Q240;  selected for its high sugar content and adaptability to the region.Wild yeast from the paddock plays a role in the fermentation process, but additional yeast is added after crushing. Three day fermentation period. The distillate is rested, slowly reduced, and stirred in a stainless-steel tank for a minimum of six months, before bottling. Non-chill filtered. No other ingredients or additives added.
  • Husk Pure Cane has been in production since 2017. The label keeps changing so I’m not sure what the 2023 edition looks like, but in the review are a few examples.
Jul 212024
 

Devil’s Thumb Distillery may hold the distinction of being one of the northernmost Australian distilleries making rum in Australia (as far as I know only Hoochery is further north and that by less than one degree of latitude, but never mind).  That places it in northern Queensland (FNQ, remember that?) about 1800km north of Brisbane, and takes its name from an iconic peak of that name in the Daintree Rainforest that overlooks over Port Douglas, Mossman and beyond: the founding team felt it would be the perfect name for the distillery.

Who is the team? Well there you have me, because as has become a rather standard – and annoying —  occurrence these days, the company website doesn’t mention much of the actual history of the distillery, let alone the owners or founders. As far as I was able to ferret out, the two main movers and shakers are Mark Norman the Head Distiller and co-founder (he was the force behind the award winning Navy Strength Gin a couple of years back), and Tony Fyfe, the CEO of Hemingway’s Brewery from Port Douglas 1. Devil’s Thumb was officially established in 2020 and has been in business ever since.

As a relatively new distillery, their product range remains small; one imagines they have a modest ageing program in place and each batch of their rum is sold as such – this the 13th. They also currently sell five gins (with some cute names like “Rainforest”, “Wet Season” and “Dry Season”), two spiced rums and one multi-batch example of a cane spirit, which is to say, unaged rum.  It is to this we turn our attention today – it was the Day 10 entry of the 2023 rum advent calendar, for those who are keeping tabs.

The rum (yes, I’ll call it that) is actually an agricole style distillate, with cane juice coming from the nearby Mossman Sugar Mill. It is fermented with both cultured and wild yeast over something less than a week, and then run through the 1200-litre pot still called Carrie (a tip of the trilby to their manufacturing consultant) which is used to make some lighter rums from time to time, and also for gins and whiskies. As an aside, the other still in use is an Australian-made 1000-litre double-retort pot still called Roberta (whose name derives from the gent at Brewery MacAlister who gave their wort chiller to Devil’s Thumb to convert into a pot still); the resulting distillate was rested in stainless tanks and reduced over six weeks to 48%, with no filtration and nothing added. That makes it an agricole-style rum and many readers will know I have a real fascination for such unaged cane juice products because they vary so very much. 

This one certainly started things off with a bang because the first notes on the nose were of cordite and gunpowder, the smoke of firecrackers and the acrid aroma of salt-petre (no, really). It took a while for this to dissipate, and then it was replaced by rubber, varnish and turpentine, all of which admittedly sounds like industrial solvent channelled by a chemical factory working flat out, but somehow, sort of, kind of…works.  Partly that’s because additional character came into play: brine, olives, raisins, leather, grass, citrus peel, herbs in olive oil, plus some dusty and dry notes that seemed more whisky-like than anything else. 

The palate was also quite something: really pleasant. Yes it had some rubber and fresh plastic notes, but also pushed out a crisp sort of sweetness, with sugar water, cucumber slices in white wine vinegar (plus a pimento for kick), brine, olives, lychees and a fig or two. There were also the faint tastes of unripe apricots, lemon peel, and yellow mangoes on the edge of being ripe. It was tart and herbal and lightly sweet and quite a lovely sipping experience, if a tad sharp for those unprepared for it. The finish wasn’t all that impressive, mostly closing down the aromas and repeating what had come before without adding anything new – but it was aromatic and easygoing, so could not be classed as a failure of any kind.

Well now, what to make of this? I’d have to say that it was a cane juice rum of uncommon originality (that opening nose, for example…wow!). I suppose I could ask for a bit less bite, a little more herbal character, and maybe a few extra notes of this or that fruit.  But that would make it a rum I wanted, not the rum I actually got, and for a person who seeks originality and a new experience when trying rums, the choices Mr. Norman has made cannot be faulted. 

Last week I mentioned that the three year old Doorly’s was a hell of a rum – it up-ended expectations and was more than the sum of its parts. Well, this unaged dingo’s donger from Down Under is not the same kind of rum…but it’s even better, and one I would happily get a bottle, any time it went on sale in my location.  It’s that unusual, that interesting…and that good.

(#1082)(86/100) ⭐⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here. The video was recorded before the notes below became available, so in cases of any inconsistency of facts, the written review takes precedence.
  • Mark Norman very kindly provided some more background details just before this review went to press. Aside from what has been incorporated and amended above, here are some additional notes:
    • This is Batch #13, but as of July 2024 they are up to #18
    • Cane juice rums are high on Mark’s radar and are a passion of his: they will always be a focus of the distillery.
    • Another major area of future endeavours is high ester rum making: the company has employed Gabriele Pegoraro, a Brazilian chemical engineer whose thesis was on the fermentation of sugar cane juice. Gabriele has a strong distilling background and taken over as head distiller to lead this process. 
    • With respect to an ageing program, the company’s principle has always been that the rum will be ready when its ready, rather than at any particular age. The first reserve cask rum will be released in the next month (August 2024) which will be a single cask release of a wild fermented, double pot stilled rum with age of around 2½  years. The oldest rums in the warehouse are now close to four years old and further stock continues ot be laid down..
    • The distillery is very much rum focussed, in spite of the very successful gin line. Apparently a amount of whisky is made (to appease co-founder Tony Fyfe).
    • Experimentation with the “Jamaican” style continues, and ageing new make cane juice in white wine casks is an ongoing area of interest.
Mar 152024
 

In the previous review I remarked that the slightly aged añejo from the relatively new San Juan Artisan Distillers in Puerto Rico, did not impress me very much. This was in spite of the fact that on paper they looked like they had all the plant, equipment, and resources they needed to make something better. A fair number of online comments supported this view: most thought it was a barrel thing, although I did get one remark that resonated, stating (paraphrased) that it’s not a good idea to assume that the physical pieces alone are what make the product great or stand above the hoi polloi. That aside, I closed with the observation that with what they had under the hood and bringing to the table, it was unlikely they could stay in the kiddie pool for long. 

This white rum, bottled at the same strength, proves that point nicely and demonstrates yet again – as if it needed to be – that unaged white rum really is in a class by itself and should never be shrugged off just because it looks the same as the filtered white bar staple that gives the “category” a bad name. The production stats aren’t significantly different from the añejo: it’s cane juice derived, fermented for a few days (as best as I can ascertain – this is subject to verification) then double distilled in the charentais pot stills. No ageing.

From that almost stereotypical agricole-style beginning comes a very nice rum indeed, with a pungent, salty, sweaty, earthy, loamy nose.  It smells of grit and damp potter’s soil, and behind that lurks a sort of vague funky aspect that suggests a low-end congener count, like, oh the LFCH or OWH from Hampden, or WPL from Worthy Park. Some nice fruity notes attend, like tangerines, strawberries, bubble gum, mint…that kind of thing.  But it’s very low key and in no way aggressive – the 43% ABV it pulls in with mitigates against any kind of harsh or stinging profile.

The palate corrects some of that is missing when you smell it, most particularly the grassy and herbal notes the nose didn’t seem to want to fork out. The taste provides a sweet, firm, green and grassy profile, with a touch of tart unripe pears and soursop, some yoghurt and even a little aggressive (in a good way). In my mind I genuinely see some rums with colours when tasted – this one would be white and green (channelling Slytherin or something, who knows?), and can be summarised by saying it’s like an addled 7-up with some added mojo. The finish is short but quite solid and fruity, with brine and olive oil and I swear there was a pimento lurking behind there someplace, sensed but never actually confirmed.

Altogether, then, a really solid white rum of the kind I prefer. It must be mentioned that drinking the anejo and the blanco side by side is a useful exercise and it shows how treatment and ageing – transformation, if you will – doesn’t always make for a better rum (I know, I know, this from a guy who loves rums aged four decades and over). It also demonstrates how white and unaged rums without the filtration and bleaching that so infantilizes Bacardi and Lambs and their ilk have no analogue in the whisky world, but are almost unique to rums, and should be given more serious attention. 

This blanco is one of the better whites out there, and redeems my initial opinion of the distillery, which I originally felt was channelling just another Latin style rum with the twist of being from cane juice but without any of the flair. The blanco, however, is pretty damned fine: it has taste, it has aromas, it has character, and I kid you not when I say that it was one of the best things on the table the day I had it.   Hopefully the distillery makes more like it, and stronger.

(#1063)(85/100) ⭐⭐⭐½


Other notes

  • Once again, my deep appreciation to Jazz and Indy Anand of Skylark in London. Hanging out at their place to talk and check out rums is always a high point of any trip I make to the UK.
  • A brief company bio can be found below the añejo review.
Feb 202023
 

This is a sample review I’ve been sitting on for quite a while, and after trying it was never entirely certain I wanted to write about at all: but perhaps it’s best to get it out there so people can get a feel for the thing. It’s a rhum made in Vietnam since 2017 by a three-person outfit founded by an expatriate Martinique native named Roddy Battajon and occasionally turns up in social media feeds and in French and regional magazines — but, like other Vietnam rum brands we’ve looked at before (Mia, L’Arrangé Dosai and Sampan so far), lacks exposure and a more international presence. It’s the usual issue: too small for sufficient revenues to allow for rum festival attendance and a distribution deal, and the pandemic certainly did not help. Since 2022 they’ve entered into some partnership deals, however, so there is hope for a greater footprint in the years to come – for now the primary market for its rhums seems to remain regional, with some being for sale in France.

Mr. Battajon has been in Vietnam since around 2016, arriving with ten years of F&B experience in Europe under his belt, and after knocking around the bar circuit there for a while, felt that the high quality of local sugar cane and the mediocre local rhums (the most popular is called Chauvet, and there are bathtub moonshines called “scorpion” and “snake wine” which one drinks just to say one has) left a space for something more premium. He linked up with a Vietnamese partner who doubles up as General Manager in charge of procurement and product sourcing (bottles, labels, corks, cane juice, spares…), and an Amsterdam-based designer and communications guy. Navigating the stringent regulations, sinking his capital into a small alembic (a stainless steel pot still), bootstrapping his Caribbean heritage and tinkering the way all such micro-distillers do, he released his first cane juice rhum in early 2017 and has been quietly puttering along ever since.

The rum is made as organically as possible, sourcing pesticide-free cane from local farmers, and eschewing additives all the way – for now a “Bio” certification remains elusive since the certifying mechanism has not yet been instituted in Vietnam. However they recycle the bagasse into compost, and botanical leftovers into a sort of bitters, and have plans to use solar panels for energy going forward, as well as continuing to source organic cane wherever they can find it.

This then, finally brings us to the rhum itself.  So: cane juice, pot-still distilled from that little alembic (have not been able to establish the size or makeup), and bottled at a muscular 55% ABV. Mr. Battajon makes it clear in a 2017 interview, without stating it explicitly, that his vision of rhum is one of infusion and flavouring, not the “pure” one currently in vogue, though he is careful to make a distinction between what he does and a “rhum arrangé”. The company now makes several different lightly aged products but I have not seen anything to suggest that either an unaged white is available (yet) or that if it is, it is unadded-to. 

In various articles, listings and comments online, mention is made of coffee beans, pineapple, mangoes, other fruits, and various herbs, barks and spices being added to the ageing barrels. I had no idea this was the case when I tried it – it was a sample from Reuben Virasami, a fellow Guyanese and bartender who spent some time in Vietnam and who now resides in Toronto – and he didn’t provide any info to go along with it, so I gave it the same run-through that all rhums receive. In other words, I treated it as a straightforward product.

What the Legacy did, when I tried it, was transport me back to a corner of my mind inhabited by the Cuban Guayabita del Pinar. It had that same sense of sweetly intense fruitiness about it – the nose was rich with ripe, dripping pineapples, soft and squishy mangoes, some sugar cane sap, and a few spices too subtle to make out – cinnamon and maybe nutmeg, I’d hazard. 55% makes the arrival quite powerful, even overpowering, so care should be taking to avoid a nasal blowout – fortunately it’s not sharp or stabbing at all, just thick.

The palate is much more interesting because some of the sweet fruit intensity is tamped down.  That said, it’s not a whole lot different from the nose: pineapples, mangoes, yoghurt, a touch of breakfast spices, anise and red bell peppers, and something akin to maple syrup drizzled over hot pancakes.  There’s a delicate citrus line underlying the whole thing, something crisp yet unidentifiable, with an alcoholic kick lending emphasis, but behind that, not a whole lot to go on.  The finish was disappointing, to be honest, because it was short and presented nothing particularly new.

So yes, when all is said and done, the Legacy is very much along the line of the ‘Pinar except here it’s been dialled up quite a bit. Overall, it’s too sweet for me, too cloying, and you must understand that preference of mine in case you make a purchasing decision on the basis of this review – I don’t care for infused and spiced rums or arrangés, really, unless the addition is kept at a manageable, more subtle, level, not ladled into my face with a snow shovel.  Here, in spite of the extra proof points, that just wasn’t the case: I felt drenched in mango-pineapple flavours, and that strength amplified the experience to a level I was not enthusiastic about. If I want a cocktail, I’ll make one.

It would be unfair of me to score a rum of a kind I usually do not buy and don’t care for — since I don’t knowingly purchase or sample such rums, experience is thin on the ground, and then I’d be making an assessment of quality I’m not equipped to deliver. Therefore I’ll dispense with a score, just write my thoughts and comments, and leave it for others to rate when their time comes. But I’ll make this remark – if a company labels its product as a rhum without qualification (by excluding the words “spiced” or “infused” or “arrangé”) then it’s asking for it to be judged alongside others that are deemed more real, more genuine. That leaves the door open to a lot of criticism, no matter how organic and well made the rhum is, and here, that’s not entirely to its advantage.

(#974)(Unscored)


Other notes

  • Not sure what the origin of the company title Belami is. On the other hand the word “Legacy” is likely a call back to Mr. Battajon’s grandmother, from whom he drew inspiration.
  • This Legacy edition was 55% ABV. In the various expressions, the strength varies from ~48% to ~60%
  • I’ve written an email to the company asking for clarification on a few points, so this post will be amended if I get a response.
  • Because several years’ worth of the Legacy were issued (some at 55%, some stronger, some weaker), I’m unsure as to the age. None state the year of make on the label as far as I can tell, but online stores sometimes make mention of the one they’re selling.
Apr 212022
 

Image (c) Husk Distillers, from their FB Page

In the increasingly crowded Australian spirits marketplace, for a rum maker to stand out means it has to have a unique selling point, some niche aspects of its production that sets it apart in people’s minds from all the other contenders in the marketplace. Killik’s is the one tinkering with the “Jamaican-style” of rum making; Jimmy Rum has its insouciant sense of humour, colourful owner and halcyon location; Beenleigh rests its laurels on being one of the oldest and its origin myth of the shipwrecked pot still; Cabarita Spirits has its vivacious solo proprietress, Brix goes with its yuppie urban vibe, and Bundaberg seems to take a fiendish delight in being equal parts derided and despised the world over. For Husk Distillers though, it’s the focus on producing cane juice based agricole-style rums – this is what they term “cultivated rum” and what they have in fact registered as a trademark with IP Australia.

As was noted in the review of their “Bam Bam” Spiced rum, the company makes a gin called “Ink”, a pair of unaged agricole-style rums at two strengths, a botanical, a spiced, and a few youngish aged rums. In August 2021 they issued “The Lost Blend” virgin-cane aged rum (as opposed to others made with cane having looser morals, one surmises), bringing to mind St Lucia Distillers’ “Forgotten Casks.” Like SLD, Husk had a reason to name this rum “The Lost Blend,” of course: the rum and its name was based on two barrels filled in 2014 and another in 2016 with cane juice distillate run off the 1000-litre hybrid pot-column still – but in the aftermath of the Great Flood in 2017, the hand-written distillation notes that detailed the fermentation histories and distillation cuts for the two 2014 barrels, were destroyed, and so…

These are tragic circumstances for the distillation geek and technical gurus who want the absolute max detail (to say nothing of the distiller who might want to replicate the process). For the casual drinker and interested party, however, there is enough to be going on with: the rums from the two aforementioned years were aged until 2018 in a hot and dry tin shed, before being moved in that year to a cooler barrel warehouse until 2021 when they were slowly married and reduced, to be bottled in August 2021 at 43.5% without any additions, colourings or adulterations – 761 individually numbered bottles form the final release, which is not listed for purchase on the company’s website, because it was offered for sale only to locals at the door, and Husk Rum Club subscribers (as well as on BWS and some local shops).

What’s curious about The Lost Blend is how un-agricole-like it is at all stages of the sipping experience (this is not a criticism, precisely, but it is more than merely an observation). Take for example the nose: it displayed no real herbal grassiness that almost define the cane juice origin style of rum (even the aged ones).  It started off with wet cardboard, fresh paint on damp drywall, and some new plastic sheeting. Then it moved on to gingerbread cookies, some plum liqueur, molasses, salt caramel and fudge. A touch of nutty white chocolate, brine, honey and a nice touch of light citrus zest for edge.  Nicely warm and quite soft to smell, without any aggro.

If I had to use a single word to describe the palate it might be “spicy” (in multiple ways).  And that’s because it was – initial tastes were ginger, cinnamon, anise and vanilla, with a touch of pears, overripe apples, raisins, brown sugar and salted caramel ice cream. There were a few bitter notes of oak and old coffee grounds, but the citrus acidity was long gone here, and overall, even with a short and relatively dry finish that was redolent toffee and unsweetened dark chocolate it presented nicely as a light ‘n’ easy sipper that just wanted to please without going off like a frog in a sock.

Given that the Lost Blend was a rum comprising four- and six-year-old components, it’s almost as surprising to see so much come through the ageing process as what exactly emerged at the other end. I attribute the tastes I discerned to a combination of the subtropical climate and (a guess here) smaller and maybe newer casks that provided those quick and easy notes. What is more baffling is how little evidence there is of the rum actually being from cane juice, because tasted blind (as it was), my scribbled remarks read more like some solid young Latin-style ron than anything else. I did like it more than the spiced Bam Bam, though, and it is well made and works well as a softly tasty warm-weather sundowner: but my advice is to enjoy it for what it is and not to look for serious local terroire or a recognizable agricole-style flavour profile — because that, I’m afraid, just isn’t there.

(#901)(82/100) ⭐⭐⭐½


Other Notes

  • As with all the reviewed Australian rums from the 2021 Aussie Advent Calendar, a very special shout out and pat of the Panama to Mr. And Mrs. Rum, who sent me a complete set free of charge. Thanks, as always.
  • More notes on the company can be found in the Bam Bam Spiced Rum review.
Mar 012022
 

Commercial publicity still

Rhum Mia is the product of a small distillery in Vietnam’s Ho Chi Minh City, run by two expatriate Frenchmen and which opened for business around 2017. I’m interested in eastern hemisphere rhums as part of my overarching  fascination with all the branches of the rum tree, and while aged rums and rhums and rons not unnaturally get all the attention, the white rhums from that region are gradually beginning to gain more traction, and they exert a powerful fascination.

A few years ago I was gifted a sample by Reuben Virasami (the showrunner of Roob Dog Drinks which is well worth visiting) from this small outfit in Vietnam. I spent a fair amount of time on it and the backstory of the distillery, which I’ll add down below: but suffice to say, they continue to issue small batch cane juice rhums on their small column still, and these are then aged – I use the term carefully – in clay pots called chum which are also and traditionally used to hold local rice liquors during fermentation.

Clearly if there is any residual effect of these vessels, it would result in a taste profile that presents at an angle to more familiar agricole-style rhums, whether aged or unaged.  I am not fully conversant with the way in which clay vessels impact the taste of a rum, since serious experience is lacking here, but at the least I would expect many of the herbal, grassy, “green” notes to be retained.  The initial 2018 expression did have those but seemed too weak for its purpose, no matter how unusual and unique it was, and to some extent that continued a year later with the 2019 release which came into my hands via John Go in the Philippines (he writes most of the rum reviews for Malt-Review).

The rum retained the makers’ tradition of being bottled at 45%, and there were many similarities with the previous year’s rhum: the smell continued to reek of glue, bookbindings, and the newly cracked pages of a glossy French fashion magazine, rubber and plastic.  But there was a rather unpleasant scent of damp cigarette smoke – the way it hangs in the air on a cold winter day, or smells when adhering to the latex gloves of your least favourite proctologist – and this did little to enthuse. It was only after some minutes that I could discern some sugar water, cucumbers, gherkins in light vinegar and one anaemic pear, and a curious minerally smell.  Overall it seemed less a rhum than a spirit with some rummy components.

On the palate, that cigarette ash note never really went away, though thankfully it remained subtle, joined by damp drywall, glue and dust for a few minutes, and then fading gently away.  From that point on, the dominant flavours were watery fruit – pears, watermelon, white guavas, kiwis, ripe soursop minus the “sour”, and yoghurt.  Melons, papaya and some lemon-flavoured sugar water raised the profile a bit, though there was also an odd minerality sensed here and there, something along the lines of licking wet granite. The finish was all right – light watery fruits, a touch of lemon zest, some grassy notes, and a touch of rosemary and dill.

Second to last glass on the right…..

After this experience, I hauled the Rhum Mia from the previous year out of the sample box in the basement and tried it again. The notes were pretty much on point and my memory had not failed: that one was intriguing but not really exceptional and scored on the median, and because it was an early variation, it held the promise of improvement as time passed and experience was gained.  Alas, the 2019 edition is more of a disappointment. It wasn’t as if it lacked interest, was bereft of originality and even some punch: not at all, it had what it had and was a touch more distinct than its predecessor…it was just not as pleasant to drink. Somehow the herbal grassiness and tart fruit part of the profile had been dialled down while allowing less interesting notes to make up the difference.  That, I’m afraid, was not to the rhum’s benefit…or to mine.

(#888)(73/100) ⭐⭐½


Other notes

  • Thanks, of course, to John, who keeps sourcing interesting an offbeat rums for me to try and which he steadfastly refuses to label until after I’ve tried them.
  • We’ll take a look and see if the 55% bumped-up edition holds more promise in a week or two

Background Details

Saigon Liquorists — the name of the small company behind the Mia brand — is the formally incorporated enterprise of two expatriate Frenchmen Clément Jarlier and Clément Daigre, who saw the cane juice liquor being sold on the streets in Ho Chi Minh City and smelled a business opportunity. The fact that one was involved in spirits distribution in Vietnam while the other had both broker experience and knew about the distillation of cognac helped establish things, cince they already had some background in the industry.

Sourcing a 200-liter single column still in 2017 from China, they obtained fresh cane, then the juice, experimented for three months with fermentation, distillation, cutting, finally got the profile they were after, and rolled out the first Rhum Mia in October that year at a charity gala. In their current system, the sugarcane comes from Tien Giang in the Mekong Delta, just south of Ho Chi Minh City. The sugarcane is peeled (and that peel is discarded), and pressed once to get the first juice. That is then vacuum-packed in 5L bags and loaded into refrigerated trucks (this slows down fermentation), which transport the bags the 70km to the distillery. 

There fermentation is begun and lasts about five days, before being run through the small column still – somewhat more heads than usual are cut, which reduces the flavour (but also the hangover, apparently), and what comes out the other end is around 77% ABV. The rum is rested in inert, locally-made traditional clay vessels (chums, used in rice liquor fermentation in Vietnam) for eight months and then slowly diluted with water over the final two months to 45% – a strength chosen to appeal to the local market where Mia’s initial sales were made.


 

Feb 172022
 

To call Winding Road Distillery’s unaged cane spirit both an “agricole blanc” and a “virgin cane spirit” seems like something of a tautology, doesn’t it? But no worries: it’ll will be renamed at some point to make it simpler and to gain access to the EU and other places where the term “agricole” is clearly defined and protected (they are well aware of the naming conventions). This is fairly important for their future plans, since all their current rums, including what they’ve laid down to age, derive from cane juice. There are no plans to move away from that core source material any time soon…which says a lot for their determination to set themselves apart from most other Australian rum producers who work primarily (though not exclusively) with molasses.

In a separate post I have gone deeper into the background of this new Australian family-owned and operated distillery: for the moment the specs on the rhum are as follows. It is, as stated, made from fresh cane juice: given the distillery is located in the middle of sugar cane country in New South Wales (~175km south of Brisbane for the curious), this is far easier for them than, say, JimmyRum down south, though trucking juice to the distillery is done in both cases. Fermentation mostly takes three days in open vats using both commercial and wild yeasts, and sometimes the wash is left to rest for longer (up to two weeks) before being run through their 1,250-liter Australian-made pot still, which is given the evocative name of “Short Round” (I’m waiting to see if anyone will pounce on R2-D2 or BB-8 any time soon, but never mind). Once all that’s done, some is set to age, and the rest is slowly diluted down to 48% and bottled as a blanc. 

And what a blanc it is. When Mr. & Mrs. Rum posted their daily advent calendar notes on Instagram last year, they started by saying that the rum “…has been described as full of big HOGO aroma.” I can write to faithful readers that this is no more than the truth because once I smelled this thing it was all Pow! Biff!  Bam! — immediate and serious pot still blanc action, big time. Not as feral as a clairin, perhaps…but not a mile away either. Glue, damp sawdust, cedar, varnish, turpentine, paint, plastic and (get this) benzene, released at a solid 48% and intense as hell – another ten points of proof and we could conceivably enter “easily weaponizable” territory. At the inception it was like standing at the intersection of the lumber and paint aisles of Home Depot. The funk is nicely controlled with this thing and it does the segue into green grapes, apples, pears, wet new-mown grass, sweet white cane vinegar, apples, cashews, orange peel and licorice really really well.

Aromas aside, cane juice rhums stand or fall on the complexity and pungent intensity of their tastes (which in turn impact how they fare in a daiquiri, a Ti-punch or a mojito, the most common uses they’re put to). Sampling it neat reveals nothing I would tell you to avoid – in fact, it’s pretty good. The slightly higher strength helps, as it does in most blancs – it’s dry, initially sharp and solidly tasty.  First off come the woody and cereal-like notes of cheerios, sawdust and a touch of licorice and sandalwood. It’s not very sweet, though some sugar-water and lime is evident; then we get some cinnamon, vanilla, orange peel, nuts and a basket of mixed white light fruits, none of which are as fiercely crisp as the nose had been — some of the clarity of the nose was dialled down here. It all led down to a firm and lingeringly warm finish that reprised some glue, anise, light fruits and a touch of salt.

All in all, this is a seriously good unaged cane juice spirit – a real rhum, if you will.  I don’t know if you could try it blind and know it was not from some famed agricole distillery boasting long years of pedigree. Certainly there are some aspects to it that were curious, pleasant and intriguing — the lack of ageing is evident in the rougher palate and its occasionally sharp profile, which is perhaps an Aussie twang and terroire coming out — but it doesn’t fall far from the reference rhums of the type with which we are more familiar, and it does its job with a sort of insouciant enthusiasm and a joie-de-vire which is evident in every sip. 

(#885)(84/100) ⭐⭐⭐½


Other Notes:

  • The company history and profile can be found here – it started off small and was originally included here, but I found and was provided with more than usual detail, and so split it off as a separate post.
  • As with all the Australian rums reviewed as part of the 2021 Aussie Advent Calendar, a very special shout out and pat of the pork-pie hat to Mr. And Mrs. Rum, who sent me a complete set free of charge. Thanks again to you both.
Nov 282019
 

It must be something about the French – they’re opening micro distilleries all over the place (Chalong Bay, Sampan, Whisper, Issan and Toucan are examples) and almost all of them are channelling the agricole ethos of the French West Indies, working with pure cane juice and bringing some seriously interesting unaged blancs to the attention of the world. Any time I get bored with the regular parade of rums from the lands of the pantheon, all I have to do is reach for one of them to get jazzed up about rum, all over again. í

The latest of these little companies is from Vietnam, which is rife with sugar cane juice (“Nuoc Mia”) as well as locally made bottom-house rice- or molasses-originating artisanal spirits called “rượu” (ruou); these operate in the shadows of any Government regulation, registration or oversight — many are simple moonshineries.  But Saigon Liquorists is not one of these, being the formally incorporated enterprise of two expatriate Frenchmen Clément Jarlier and Clément Daigre, who saw the cane juice liquor being sold on the streets in Ho Chi Minh City and smelled a business opportunity. The fact that one was involved in spirits distribution in Vietnam while the other had both broker experience and knew about the distillation of cognac didn’t hurt wither – already they had a background in the industry.

Photo (c) Saigon Liquorists, from FB

Sourcing a 200-liter single column still in 2017 from China, they obtained fresh cane, then the juice, experimented for three months with fermentation, distillation, cutting, finally got the profile they were after, and rolled out the first Rhum Mia in October that year at a local charity gala. In their current production system, the sugarcane comes from Tien Giang in the Mekong Delta, just south of Ho Chi Minh City, via a supplier who collects it from farmers in the area and does the initial processing. The sugarcane is peeled, and pressed once to get the first juice. That is then vacuum-packed in 5L bags and loaded into refrigerated trucks (this slows down fermentation), which transport the bags the 70km to the distillery.  There fermentation is begun and lasts about five days, before being run through the still – what comes out the other end is around 77% ABV. The rum is rested in inert, locally-made traditional clay vessels called chums (used in rice liquor fermentation in Vietnam) for eight months and then slowly diluted with water over the final two months to 45% – a strength chosen to appeal to the local market where Mia’s initial sales were made. 

The strength might prove key to broader acceptance in foreign markets where 50-55% ABV is more common for juice-based unaged rhums (Toucan had a similar issue with the No.4, as you may recall). When I nosed this 45% rhum, its initial smells took me aback – there was a deep grassy kind of aroma, mixed in with a whole lot of glue, book bindings, wax, old papers, varnish and furniture polish, that kind of thing. It reminded me of my high school studies done in GT’s National Library, complete with the mustiness and dry dust of an old chesterfield gone to mothballs, under which are stacked long unopened suitcases from Edwardian times. And after all that, there came the real rum stuff – grass, dill, sweet gherkins, sugar water, white guavas and watermelon, plus a nice clear citrus hint. Quite a combo.

The rhum distanced itself from the luggage, furniture and old tomes when I tasted it.  The attack was crisp and clean on the tongue, sharp and spicy, an unambiguous blade of pure herbal and grassy flavours – sweet sugar cane sap, dill, crushed lime leaves, brine, olives, with just a touch of fingernail polish and turpentine at the back end, as fleeting as a roué’s sly wink.  After about half an hour – longer than most will ever have this thing gestating in their glasses – faint musty dry earth smells returned, but were mixed in with sugar water, cucumbers and pimentos, cumin, and lemongrass, so that was all good. The finish was weak and somewhat quick, quite aromatic and dry, with nice hints of flowers, lemongrass, and tart fruits.

Ultimately, it’s a reasonably tasty tropical drink that would do fine in (and may even have been expressly designed for) a ti-punch, but as a rhum to have on its own, it needs some torqueing up, since the flavours are there, but too difficult to tease out and come to grips with. Based on the experience I’ve had with other micro-distilleries’ blancs (all of which are stronger), the Mia is damned intriguing though. It’s different and unusual, and in my correspondence with him, Clement suggested that this difference comes from the fact that the sugar cane peel is discarded before pressing which makes for a more grassy taste, and he takes more ‘heads’ away than most, which reduces flavour somewhat…but also the hangover, which, he remarked, is a selling point in Vietnam.

These days I don’t drink enough to get seriously wasted any more (it interferes with my ability to taste more rums), but if this easy-on-the-head agricole-style rhum really does combine both taste and a hangover-free morning after, and if the current fascination with grass-to-glass rums continues in the exclusive bars of the world – well, I’m not sure how you could stop the sales from exploding. Next time I’m in the Real World, I’ll keep an eye out for it myself.

(#680)(76/100)


Other Notes

  • All bottles, labels and corks are sourced in Vietnam and efforts are underway to begin exporting to Asia and Europe.
  • Production was around 9000 bottles a year back in 2018, so it might have increased since then.
  • This batch was from 2018
  • Plans are in play to distill both gins and vodkas in the future.
  • Hat tip to Reuben Virasami, who spotted me the sample and alerted me to the company.  Also to Tom Walton, who explained what “chums” were. And many thanks to Clément Daigre of SL, who patiently ran me through the history of the company, and its production methods.