Jan 122015
 

D3S_9094

Complex, yes. Quality, not entirely.

Although the Depaz VSOP Reserve Speciale is noted as being a complex agricole, not much except perhaps the taste of the reddish brown rhum deriving from the Plantation de la Montagne Pelee really works for me as it should, which just goes to show that not every single spirit hailing from a part of the world supposedly making only top-end products can be as good as it is meant to be.  Part of the issue here (I hesitate to say “problem”) is that all sensations go by too fleetingly for any real impression to be left, and what was there just never came out the way it might have.  The Depaz agricole is a Tolkien elf running across the snow, and leaves few footprints worthy of remark.

Which is somewhat odd for a spirit that is bottled at 45%: that strength alone would lead you to assume some intensity and heft in the profile.  But nope, not really.  At least not in this one, and it starts right away in the nose.  Unlike some really stellar exemplars of the craft (think Damoiseau 1980 or even the Karukera Millesime 1997) which wafted a cloud of deep, luscious scents into the room as soon as the bottle was cracked, the Depaz seemed thin and reedy as a hungry rice-eating mongrel’s ribs, and like such a pooch’s snarling attack, it was sharp and fast and over way too quick.  There were underlying aromas of grass, crushed cane and rosemary, some subdued hints of apricots, fruits, flowers and sweet bubblegum, followed by faint leather, and the damp musky smell of cheap cigarettes smoked in the midst of a tropical rainforest with high humidity (having done so in the past, I know whereof I speak).  But it was all too little, too sharp, and too scrawny for the schnozz of this reviewer, who openly prefers more aggressive fare.

The taste in the mouth on the other hand elevated the drink quite a bit, and made me check my glass to see if I had confused my samples.  It was stronger and more assertive, very nicely warm without the spiciness of the nose…a bit more body you might say, entering quite cleanly and clearly. Sweet and solidly fruity, it opened with sugars and some oakiness, chopped light fruits (green grapes, white guavas), licorice (odd in a Martinique AOC agricole), bleeding sap from a fresh cut cane stand, green leaves and even a flirt of vanilla and caramel.  The complexity was hinted at but seemed scared to come out and strut its stuff and therefore, while it was discernible, it never quite took centre stage.

I should however remark on the mouthfeel and texture, which wasn’t bad at all, coating the tongue well and warmly, allowing some of those tastes to take on greater prominence after a few minutes.  Here adding some water had to be done with some delicacy, as too much would have shredded an already unaggressive drink, and too little wasn’t enough to release the additional flavours that lay hidden.  The finish was an overall disappointment, by the way – there was a backtaste of cane juice on a cutlass blade (I kid you not – it had both metallic and vegetal notes), some sugar water, vanilla, a little oakiness, too quick and too sharp to appeal to me.

D3S_9095

Depaz hails from the eponymous estate in St. Pierre in Martinique, and is located at the foot of  Mount Pelée  itself: it’s been in existence for over three hundred years, sicne 1651 in fact, when the first governor of Martinique, Jacques Duparquet, created the plantation, and these days bears the AOC mark of terroire-based authenticity. Although the famous eruption of the volcano in 1902 decimated the island, Victor Depaz, who survived, reopened for business in 1917 and it’s been operational ever since.

The company also makes quite a few other rhums: the Rhum Depaz, a full proof 50% beefcake, a blanc variation, the Blue Cane Rhum Agricole (which are all a little down the evolutionary ladder), as well as an XO and the Cuvee Prestige (a little above quality-wise, a lot more price-wise). I’ve heard that the VSOP was made with a single column copper still (and was unfortunately unable to confirm it), aged for seven years in charred oak casks, from cane juice (of course) and without filtering or additives; it is presented in a bottle more reminiscent of wine or champagne, but you have to kind of admire such audacity – it sure sets it apart from the crowd.

Anyway, let’s pull it all together.  I tried this three times to see whether my opinion changed (and it didn’t), but my overall lack of passion should not entirely dissuade you: there were aspects of the rhum that worked well (the palate in particular).  My own predilection for more intricate, stronger and deeper flavours should not be seen as a blanket indictment of any rum that doesn’t conform, or which those persons with a liking for subtler, lighter rums would enjoy. This is where knowing your preferences comes in handy. Lovers of soleras, Bajan, Panamanian or Demerara rums are not likely to swoon here.  Trinis, maybe; Cubans and Jamaicans, quite likely. And people with a penchant for agricoles will probably like it – for the same reasons I couldn’t muster serious enthusiasm, in all likelihood.

Some might consider this to be like a black mongrel’s left leg – it ain’t right, and it ain’t fair – but that’s the way it is. And that’s also as it should be, because if we all agreed on everything, then all of you reading this would want to pilfer all my rums…and be in love with my wife.

(#197. 82.5/100)


Other notes:

  • In Europe this goes in the €60 range.  My own feeling is that if you can spare the change, go a step or three up the ladder for the Cuvee Prestige, which is a very good rhum indeed, and which I’ll look at in my next review.
  • It doesn’t say so on the label but digging around suggests it is a 7 year old rhum

 

 

Mar 242012
 

A generally unimpressive agricole aged five years, better as a mixer than a sipping rum.  I imagine its older brothers will be better (if I can ever lay my hands on one).

Karukera strikes me, from the dearth of any kind of hard information on it (even on its own website), as a boutique wannabe rum, something made on an relatively limited basis by an outfit seeking to build a more international sales on the back of its appeal to connoisseurs appreciating its limited production (and based on the unique characteristics of the terroire). This should, however, not dissuade you from giving this gold-coloured, light-bodied agricole a try if you come across it on a dusty shelf someplace (however, note that I am not giving it an unqualified pass.)

The French Caribbean islands – Guadeloupe in this case – are noted for their agricoles, which are rums made (in some cases to exacting specifications) from sugar cane juice as opposed to molasses. This gives them, in general, a lighter taste profile, a lighter colour, and a lighter overall mouthfeel. Overall, I have not been entirely won over by them (yet), preferring as I do heavier bodied, darker and more intense rums. There are, naturally, some exceptions, like the Rhum Clemente Tres Vieux XO from Martinique (upon which, after some back and forth tastings I finally came out positive).

This Karukera Special Reserve is a relatively young agricole rum, being aged for five years in small (no further definition is provided) ex-bourbon casks. Its youth is somewhat evident on the nose which is spicy, and has the light floral and grassy hints that so characterize French terroires. Sweet, with some oakiness, cinnamon and faint sulphury notes.

The 42% strength comes out quite robustly on arrival – even that extra 2% makes quite a difference on the palate; unfortunately this presented to me not as an intensity of flavours I so like about overproofs, but more as a sort of harsh initial sting on the tongue. Yes it was redolent of cloves, pepper and gradually something softer (bananas) and maybe liquorice, must be honest about that. It was also a shade dry. No caramel, burnt sugar or molasses aftertastes until the glass dried out the dregs, so no surprises there at all. Not sure I want to wait that long to get the taste I’m after, though. Finish is short and unappealing to me personally. Overall, I must confess to being…well, uninspired.

And yet, and yet…it’s not really that bad after it opens up a shade. I marked it down for the finish, sure, but before that the taste ended up strong and somewhat simpler than I had initially sensed, and I must remark on this before you throw the whole thing down the drain.

All right, so this rum, like most agricoles, doesn’t turn my crank all that much. It’s a young low-to-middle-range rum, not that good a sipper. Indeed, most notes online remark on its excellence as an ingredient in cocktails and tiki drinks, on which I am by no means an expert. I review things on an individual basis as sipping drinks with only occasional nods to the miscibility of the product. On that basis, I would suggest it’s actually not too bad. The cocktail ingredients fill out the lack of the rum quite well.

What irritates me about rums like this is how little information there is that is available for research on the product. All I can tell you beyond what I’ve written above is that it originates in the domaine of Marquisat de Sainte Marie, and made by the oldest distillery in Guadeloupe, the Esperance distillery established in 1895. And that’s it. For a guy like me, who likes providing more rather than less information beyond mere tasting notes, this ain’t much.

Having grumbled my way through the bottom of my glass, let me sum up. It’s a herbal, grassy, slightly spiced drink of some sharpness. I don’t recommend taking it neat, or even on ice. It’s too strong to be ignored, and too light for me to take it really seriously. In short a light, relatively complex mid-ranging cocktail ingredient. And not really for me.

(#105. 75/100)