Jan 172025
 

Today we conclude our quick run through of the rums made by Carroll’s Distillery in New Brunswick, by addressing the “Cormorant” “black” rum. For all that it implies, it’s a medium bodied rum, more dark brown than black, from a pot still, slightly more aged than those rums we have looked at so far, and costing a shade more (Can$36). And while it started out generating indifference, I did warm up to it over time.

As before, Carroll’s uses Crosby Fancy  molasses, and a seven day fermentation, after which the wash is run twice through the the pot still, and the resulting distillate aged for a minimum of one year in 200L ex bourbon casks. Caramel colouring is added to darken the colour and add a little extra oomph to the profile. The blend can vary – a current batch in 2024, for example, was made up of half 2YO and half 20 month old rum stocks. 

Dark (or as this one is called, “black”) rums are a mixing agent called for by many cocktail recipes, and because his distillery is a new one and this juice is consequently very young, Matthieu Carroll, the owner, doesn’t really have much choice: a cocktail ingredient is what he’s making with the stocks he’s managed to age. That the rum is as decent as it is, is a rebuke to all those Canadian distilleries out there who actively seek the milquetoast, tasteless low ground in an effort to chase the mass market.

Because look at what he’s managed to accomplish here: now the nose starts kind of weak, true, with cola, citrus, and caramel, plus a few hints of vanilla and brown sugar thrown in. Easy to smell, very traditional stuff. It also presents a few heavy fleshy fruits, quite ripe, and a touch of baking spices, hard to make out, and if I was to summarize the nose it would be to say it smells like a rum and coke in a bottle, minus the citrus. 

The palate is where there is initially unimpressive. It’s not that the mouthfeel is bad, or that it’s too indistinct, or too weak – although there’s some truth to that, because it starts out that way.  When one starts sipping to check it out, there’s seems to be rather little to become enthusiastic about. It has some brine, faint bitter chocolate (very faint), some sweet, a few fruits – peaches, apricots, overripe red apples, red grapes – and it’s all gone almost immediately, poof, before one has time to come properly to grips with it. 

Yet as it stands, it develops more legs than it started with, and to me that’s what makes it worth trying. The nose develops and becomes a bit richer, the cinnamon and cola meld better and the fruits become slightly more distinct; molasses, coffee and the bite of citrus also emerge a bit more assertively on the palate; and the finish, while staying the same, lasts a decent amount of time and is tasty as all get out. It reminds me of some of the younger Demerara rums DDL has, if not quite as pungent.

Admittedly, the rum is living room strength and there’s only so much you can squeeze out of such a product. And yep, I had the peace of a weekend and the time to be able to come to grips with it, which is very different from the busy, conversation-filled social situations in which many will try it (and most won’t care anyway – into the mix it goes, without any ceremony, as a rule, and to hell with the snooty reviewers’ tasting notes). 

So in a way, it’s a pity that the distribution is so limited, and the output of this micro distillery is (in relative terms) so small – unless ordered in-country (as I did), most people will likely never buy it, or care enough to bother. Yet I maintain that this under-the-radar rum is worth a look — it’s a smidgen better than it seems, and deserves perhaps a few more minutes of one’s time to appreciate to the fullest. So many rums entice you to buy them on the basis of a cool label, a famed distillery, or by maxing the mojo: torqued up strength, puissant congener counts, geriatric ageing, that kind of thing. Here we have a label that has nothing to do with rum and is simply art, from an almost unknown distillery that sports no in-your-face big stats. At first blush the “Cormorant” doesn’t seem to be all that special, but I think that if left to its own devices and allowed to open up, it does give a pretty good account of itself. 

(#1108)(84/100) ⭐⭐⭐½


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here
  • The distillery does sell (and mail) rums on its website and for those who want to dip their toes in before going the whole hog, there are small 200ml bottles of each expression available for under ten bucks, which are godsends to penurious reviewers and which I wish more producers could issue.
  • The artwork on the label was a lightly edited photograph, used with permission.
Jan 132025
 

Today we continue our quick run through of another of the rums from Carroll’s Distillery in New Brunswick, by addressing the “Sanderling” lightly aged rum. This rum, now called “Sandpiper” on the website, thought it’s the same rum, essentially shares the production profile of the unaged white rum “Gannet” which we looked at before.

Using Crosby Fancy (or high grade) molasses, and a seven day fermentation, the wash is run through the the pot still, and then a second time on the smaller a reflux still with eight rectification plates, which produces a distillate anywhere between 75-93% ABV. This results in a light distillate, aged for a minimum of one year in ex bourbon casks. As a point of note, each batch of the Sanderling / Sandpiper is from a single barrel. 

The “light” in the descriptor above is well chosen: those looking here for Caroni, Longpond or wooden still action had best seek elsewhere, because this isn’t it.  Yet in no way is this a fail, because the initial nose is quite pleasant: baking spices, some light sour notes of pickled cabbage, kimchi, overripe fruit, a sort of easy going funkiness if you will. Again, there sure seems to be some ester influence in this one, and that promising beginning is followed up by burnt toast, vanilla, sweet bell peppers, licorice (is this becoming signature scent for Carroll’s? One wonders, precious….). The elements make themselves felt a tad more firmly than the white, because honestly, at first nosing it’s nicely pungent.

There is, however, more of a dropoff when one tastes it. Partly this is the standard strength, partly it’s the youth. The barrel has certainly done its part to tamp things down, of course, and the fortunate thing is that at least it’s not giving you a bitchy scratch on tongue or tonsils. Initial flavours are gently sweet, light and floral, with candy floss and watery sliced pears. With some effort one can tease out watermelon, vanilla and there’s just a hint of tartness – unsweetened yoghurt, laban, a sort of diluted pineapple juice from a tin. And the finish is rather short and thin, repeating a few of the above notes but hardly leaving a mark on either mind or memory.

Basically, here’s a rum where the overall the profile presents as “nice” without being “exceptional”. The palate sinks after the interesting nose subsides — the flavours are there, yes, but don’t pop: they are delicate rather than assertive, and too much time is spent teasing them out. That said, in comparison with some other stuff I’ve seen indifferently tossed off by Canadian distillers, it’s a cut above for sure. And that’s because it takes some of the lesser points of its white predecessor and improves on them, while not entirely succeeding at the ones we’d want in a lightly aged product where (minimally) higher expectations apply.

That may be my own failing though, rather than some intrinsic weakness of the rum itself – and the rum is good for what it is, to mix. Yet, curiously and encouragingly, the Sanderling demonstrates something I’ve always maintained real hope truly is: it’s not only and just about relationships and desire, but a positive feeling of life’s amazing possibilities. Here, the possibilities remain discernible, tantalizingly sensed — just out on the horizon for now.

(#1108)(83/100) ⭐⭐⭐½


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here. 
  • The distillery does sell (and mail) rums on its website and for those who want to dip their toes in before going the whole hog, there are small 200ml bottles of each expression available for under ten bucks, which are godsends to penurious reviewers and which I wish more producers could issue.
  • The artwork on the label was produced by David Sheirer, an artist from Maryland in the US, who did this on commission
Jan 112025
 

Well, here we are again, continuing with the lineup of the Carroll’s Distillery rums, which I bought all at once some six months or so ago. The next reviews will all be about this one outfit’s stable, so I’ll push them out fast.

Now, if you recall, this is a small New Brunswick-based micro distillery owned by Matthieu Carroll, and he founded it as a sort of hobby project back in 2016, got serious in 2018, then sourced a 500L hybrid pot still and registered it as a commercial distillery in 2019 — he went full bore into retail a year later. Even within Canada it is not very well known, probably because it sells mostly in its region (the Maritimes out east) and reviews remain as thin on the ground as a sense of irony in Toronto.

Anyway, so far, we have only looked at the RHE High Ester white, which may be unique in the Canadian rumscape by being both a high ester badass, and a gallumping 65% overproof that makes sphincters clench just by inhaling it. The rum we’re looking at today is another white, much tamer, though it isn’t called a rum – it’s referred to as a “spirit derived from sugarcane products” since Canada also has an archaic rum rule similar to the one that plagues the Australians – one year’s ageing in oak is the minimum requirement to be called a rum, and this one remains unaged.

Using Crosby Fancy (or high grade) molasses, and a seven day fermentation, the wash is run through the the pot still, and then a second time on the smaller a reflux still with eight rectification plates, which produces a distillate anywhere between 75-93% ABV. Although in the beginning the white rum used almost neutral spirit from the reflux as a component, nowadays that’s no longer made and the rum is mostly comprised of an output from the second still that’s configured to leave in more flavour compounds rather than strip them away. There’s no ageing, and it is diluted down to a more approachable 40% living room strength.


Well, that’s kind of a lot to be reading when all you want is tasting notes, so let’s dive in.  Nose first. At 40% it’s very easy to inhale, with minimal sharpness or bite – it smells, at first blush, of vanilla, sugar water, some licorice, salt, sweetish sauerkraut, pineapple, pears, green apples, and some fruits starting to go off. It’s likely that there’s some of the RHE in here (the rum is a blend), because those crisp, tart, and sweetish elements point to a higher than usual congener content. If not, it’s actually a pretty nifty aroma, I think.

It’s unsurprising that the taste falls off somewhat from there. Some of what is smelled comes over when one sips it, but 40% is what it is, and this is why I’m tasting it first thing in the morning, when all senses are screaming for input. The mouthfeel is thin, thought it remains reasonably soft, and much of the tartly sour crispness of the nose is AWOL here. That said, one can sense overripe pineapples, spearmint gum, a spicy vegetable soup, sugar water and a briny note that channels some red Moroccan olives. With some concentration, perhaps bananas and very ripe, sweet peaches, leading to a short, easy, light finish that’s mostly sugar water and freshly sliced cucumbers, pears, and maybe a flirt of red licorice.

So on balance, what do I think?  Well, I believe it’s something of a poor man’s ester-intro, for starters – lighter and easier and more approachable than the raging codpiece of the RHE. Moreover, it scores about the same, maybe a smidgen less, because it isn’t as feral a product (which is a double edged sword, admittedly) and the overwhelming red licorice tastes have been muted and dialled down into a rum that’s much more balanced. On the other hand, it remains a bit too weak for my personal tastes (your mileage will, of course, vary).

For Canadians, or anyone else who can find it or buy it, it’s a rum well worth getting — not just because it’s really quite affordable (and it is – I mean, Can$25?? — that’s not bad at all), but because it shows that the anonymous white dronish nonsense masquerading as rum which far too many supermarket shelves carry with such innocently ignorant pride, is not the only thing we make around here. If we can start to filter out the graceless bland dreck that we buy far too often, and patronise not just better rums but local distilleries, then there is real hope for the Canadian rum industry. This rum is one of those that shows the potential.

(#1107)(83/100) ⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • Video Recap is here. 
  • The distillery does sell (and mail) rums on its website and for those who want to dip their toes in before going the whole hog, there are small 200ml bottles of each expression available for under ten bucks, which are godsends to penurious reviewers and which I wish more producers could issue.
  • The name “Gannet” for the rum and the bird shown on the label refers to the Northern Gannet, and was chosen by Matthieu because of its association (for him) with the beach and summertime in the Maritimes, which is what he feels is the best time to imbibe this rum.
  • The artwork was produced by Liz Clayton Fuller, an artist from Nashville Tennessee, on commission.
  • My friend Reuben out of Toronto reviewed an earlier version of the rum back in 2021
May 262024
 

I’ve made no secret of my disdain for the cheap mass produced uninteresting blah of the regular run of filtered standard strength white rums made and sold in Canada. They are mostly tasteless, cheerless, charmless and graceless, and their only purpose is to get you – as economically as possible – as high as a giraffe’s butt. Perhaps we should be grateful that they do this one thing so well. 

If you wonder at my snark, it’s because I know that it’s possible to make an economical white rum that is much better and has real flavour, a real character, and doesn’t require the whinging about Canada’s archaic rules on what can be called rum (minimum one year ageing is a much-derided requirement for any rum in the country). Just look at all the interesting rums being made in the UK by small distillers like Sugar House, J. Gow, Islay Rum Distillery, Ninefold, Retribution, Outlier and others. Or the New Wave of Australian distillers like Cabarita, JimmyRum, Tin Shed, Hoochery, Boatrocker, Killik et al. They have their issues as well but you don’t see them holding back do you? F**k no, they’re running full speed into the damned wall is what they’re doing.

Into this dronish mess of undifferentiated alcoholic rose water that constitutes the Great White North’s white rum landscape, comes a small New Brunswick outfit (founded as a hobby distilling project in 2016 and established a functional distillery three years later) called Carroll’s. It has a labelling aesthetic that is really quite lovely, and a single rum off to the side that channels the most atavistic, cheerfully fiendish impulses of the owner, Matthieu Carroll. With that rum, somewhat at variance with the others he makes, he leveraged a pot still shoehorned into his family’s bakery, did a nine day closed fermentation and brewed this popskull to amp up the ester count to 567 g/hlpa, and knock the pants off unsuspecting reviewers, most of whom don’t know what the hell to make of this thing.

Think I exaggerate?  Permit me to illustrate: it’s 65.1% and packs a hell of a one-two nasal wallop – both for strength and for the congeners, which have no hesitation making themselves felt. There’s candy.  Lots of  sweet sugared sour candy, sour kimchi, candy floss, icing sugar on a cake and so on. There’s aromas of strawberries, pineapples, chewing gum and citrus juice from a bottle. That’s the nice part, and indeed, it’s sweet — a bit delicate even; but the countervailing muskier and deeper undernotes are missing and this throws the balance off somewhat, as does the mouth puckering sour.

There are reservations on the nose, then, though it’s decent enough, but the initial the palate is where it comes into its own. Strawberries and wet hay, anise, some very tart pineapple notes, and again the candy – though some of the tasting crew opined it is really too much now. They may have a point. The real aspect of the taste that may discombobulate, is that an increasingly dominant thread of red licorice comes stealing out of the night. Once this thing gets going, it’s red licorice all the way and it overwhelms everything else and again, there’s no balance. A bit more restraint on this, perhaps some more darker, heavier notes and it would have rated higher, I think, and a rather disappointingly short finish demonstrates a blurt and a blast of quick intense sweet-sour flavour with a rapid drop off.

So where does this leave us? Tasted solo it might be more of a success.  Tasted with several other high ester Jamaicans in the vicinity, its lack of multi-dimensionality is more pronounced, and the crew of Rum Revelations’ 2023 face off were far more unsympathetic about it in s daiquiri (they gave it more slack on the neat pour). Yet for all that, it’s a good dram, tasty enough. Like Romero’s Cask strength rum, this one elevates the potential of Canada’s distillers and shows they can muscle into territory held by better known and more successful exporters from the islands or others from elsewhere who are dabbling in the Jamaican high ester style. Rated against them it’s not as good, now – yet Carroll’s remains on my radar as a distillery to watch because almost alone among all the local distilleries, they dare to fail in style, and that’s something deserving of more respect than others have given so far.

Because, the rum may be colourless and have its faults, but let me tell you, in spiritous tasting terms, compared to the milquetoast stuff we see from its competitors, the damn thing glows like a neon tarantula on a wedding cake. And after you take it out and kill it, you shudder at the way it made your skin crawl and your palate pucker and your tongue shrivel up and cry…yet an hour later you’ll still be saying, with equal parts disbelief and admiration, “Bai, dat ting got some really braddar badassery, nuh?” Neil C. one of the Tasting Squad in the joint the day this thing was trotted out, grudgingly muttered “It smells like sweet sh*t but damn it tastes phenomenal.” 

That’s Carroll’s for you. I really can’t put it any better than that.

(#1073)(84/100) ⭐⭐⭐


Other notes

  • The RHE mark refers to “red high ester”
  • Outturn unknown
  • Although under Canadian regulations this cannot be called a rum since it is not aged, to call it “High Ester Content” as per the label strikes me as confusing and does not represent what it truly is, so I’m calling it a rum.
  • Tried against several other high ester rums, mostly from Jamaica.
  • Six minute video synopsis is here.