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.
May 092019
 

Like most rums of this kind, the opinions and comments are all over the map.  Some are savagely disparaging, other more tolerant and some are almost nostalgic, conflating the rum with all the positive experiences they had in Thailand, where the rum is made. Few have had it in the west, and those that did weren’t writing much outside travel blogs and review aggregating sites.

And that’s not a surprise. If you exclude the juice emerging from new, small, fast-moving micro-distilleries in Asia, and focus on the more common brands, you’ll find that many adhere to the light latin-style column-still model of standard strength tipple…and many are not averse to adding a little something to make your experience…well, a smoother one; an easier one. These rums sell by the tanker-load to the Asian public, and while I’m sure they wouldn’t mind getting some extra sales, restrict themselves to their own region…for now.

One of these is the Thai Sang Som Special Rum, which has been around since 1977 and has supposedly garnered a 70% market share for itself in Thailand.  This is a rum made from molasses, and apparently aged for five years in charred oak barrels before being bottled at 40% ABV. Back in the 1980s it won a clutch of medals (Spain, 1982 and 1983) and again in 2006, which is prominently featured in their promo literature…yet it’s almost unknown outside Thailand, since it exports minimal quantities (< 1% of production, I’ve read).  It is made by the Sang Som company, itself a member of Thai Beverage, one of the largest spirits companies in the world (market cap ~US$15 billion) – and that company has around 18 distilleries in the region, which make most of the rum consumed in and exported by Thailand: SangSom, Mangkorn Thong, Blend 285, Hong Thong, and also the Mekhong, which I tried so many years ago on a whim.

The rum doesn’t specify, but I’m going out on a limb and saying, that this is a column still product.  I can’t say it did much for me, on any level – the nose is very thin, quite sweet, with hints of sugar cane sap, herbs, dill, rosemary, basil, chopped up and mixed into whipped cream.  Some cinnamon, rose water, vanilla, white chocolate and more cream. Depending on your viewpoint this is either extremely subtle or extremely wussy and in either case the predominance of sweet herbal notes is a cause for concern, since it isn’t natural to rum.

No redemption is to be found when tasted, alas, though to be honest I was not really expecting much here.  It’s very weak, very quiet, and at best I can suggest the word “delicate”. Some bright ripe fruits like ripe mangoes, red guavas, seed-outside cashew nuts.  Coconuts, flowers, maybe incense. Also lighter notes of sugar water, watermelon, cucumbers, cinnamon, nutmeg – Grandma Caner said “gooseberries”, but I dispute that, the tartness was too laid back for that rather assertively mouth-puckering fruit. And the finish is so light as to be to all intents and purposes, indiscernible. No heat, no bite, no final bonk to the taste buds or the nose.  Some fruit, a little soya, a bit of cream, but all in all, there’s not much going on here.

All due respect for the tourists and Asians who have no issues with a light rum and prefer their hooch to be devoid of character, this is not my cup of tea – my research showed to to be a spiced rum, which explains a lot (I didn’t know that when I was trying it).  It’s light and it’s easy and it’s delicate, and it requires exactly zero effort to drink, which is maybe why it sells so well – one is immediately ready to take another shot, real quick, just to see if the next sip can tease out all those notes that are hinted at but never quite come to the fore. The best thing you can say about the matter is that at least it doesn’t seem to be loaded to the rafters with sugar, which, however, is nowhere near enough for me to recommend it to serious rumhounds who’re looking for the next new and original thing.

(#622)(68/100)