Rum Rum is the bad boy of
booze. The pirates of the Caribbean weren't drinking vodka. The
British navy wasn't run on "amaretto, sodomy and the lash." The
smugglers who risked death to bring in illegal alcohol to the
thirsty citizens of the U.S. during Prohibition weren't called "spritzer
runners."
Today, of course, rum is mostly famous for being the active
ingredient in popular cocktails, like the Cuba Libré, the Mojito
and the Mai-Tai. What is less well-known, however, is that, like
single malt scotch, tequila and a host of other spirits, many of
the best rums are so refined that they don't need mixers to
taste great.
Rum is made from sugar cane and has been
produced in the Caribbean since the Europeans introduced that
lucrative crop in the 17th century. A by-product of sugar
production is molasses, and the sugar cane planters quickly
discovered that the sticky goo could easily be fermented and
then distilled into liquor.
Interestingly, in the 18th
century more rum was made in Colonial America than in the
Caribbean. Molasses was shipped from the islands to the
colonies, where it was distilled into rum. And rum became the
colonists' favourite drink.
Following the Revolution,
this trade fell off sharply, and Americans turned their
attention to home-grown products. Hence, the American whiskey
industry was born. However, rum production continued in the
islands, sustained during the 19th century by its status as the
official drink of the Royal Navy and the popularity of rum
punches among polite European society.
In the U.S., rum
returned to a certain level of popularity in the wake of
Prohibition. Interest was further fuelled by the Second World
War, when cognac and scotch were in short supply. After the war,
rum entered into a glamorous phase, which coincided with Cuba's
pre-Communist heyday as a playground for the rich. Soon, the
rum-based fruit drinks quaffed poolside at places like Havana's
Hotel Tropicana or Hotel Nacional found their way back to the
bars of New York, London and Paris.
These cocktails,
however, are all made with white rum which, although ideal as a
base for cocktails, has little flavour of its own. However,
these days sophisticated imbibers are increasingly discovering
the pleasures of dark, or aged, rums.
According to figures
from the Distilled Spirits Council of the United States, while
the volume of rum sales increased by 6.1% in 2004, to 20.6
million cases, revenue was up by 8% to $1.6 billion. In
addition, sales of High End Premium and Super Premium brands
increased 10% by volume. So, Americans are not only drinking
more rum, but they are drinking better rum, as well. This is the
same pattern one sees with scotch, bourbon and tequila.
Aged rums
are establishing themselves as powerful rivals to single malt
scotches as both the before- and after-dinner drink of choice
for the well-heeled, discerning consumer. As
Garry Nelthropp, Master Distiller at Cruzan
Rum in the U.S. Virgin Islands, points out, "Rum's a
pretty hot category, and aged rum is obviously an increasingly
important part of that category."
A.J. Gilbert, owner of the Kitchen & Cocktails
lounge in New York, and the Luna Park restaurants in San
Francisco and Los Angeles, has watched this trend grow. "Many consumers are
introduced to rum through the white rum they drink in cocktails like the Mojito,
and then learn to appreciate dark rum as a sipping drink."
In addition,
many cigar smokers are discovering how well cigars and rum go
together. And when you think about it, this makes complete
sense; both are products of the same humid, tropical region, so
it's only natural they would have an affinity for each other.
Sipping rum acquires its flavour and character by being aged in
oak casks, though for how long and in what kind of casks varies
tremendously and has a major affect on the final flavour of the
rum.
Great age is not, by itself, necessarily a good
thing. Like all wood-aged spirits, rum will go on improving for
a certain amount of time in the cask. But at some point it
reaches its peak--just when this happens varies, literally, from
barrel to barrel--and from then on it will continue to become
smoother and creamier. But in the process, it looses much of the
essence of the original spirit and begins to take on the flavour
of the cask.
This doesn't have to be a bad thing--if you like rum that
tastes like Cognac or Grand Marnier.
This was born out
during my tasting. I was largely disappointed with the very
old--and very expensive--rums. As a general rule, they tasted
overworked, as if the manufacturer was trying too hard to come
up with something noteworthy, something that would justify the
sky-high price tag. I found some three or five year old rums far
more palatable, with smoother and more integrated flavour, than
those claiming to be ten years old.
This brings us to the
touchy subject of the aging statements on bottles of rum.
Because of the Caribbean heat, an unusually high proportion of
the rum evaporates from the barrel every year. As Nelthropp
says: "In two years, we lose 15% to 17% of what we started with,
thanks to the extreme heat. In 12 years, we have less than five
gallons left in a 52-gallon barrel. We are still trying to
figure out how some of our competitors are aging their rums for
24 years!"
While he's careful not to be censorious of his
competitors in those jurisdictions where adherence to the rule
of law might not be as exact as it is in the U.S. territory, the
implication is that not all age statements on a bottle of rum
should be taken at face value.
This was exactly my
experience as I tasted my way through several dozen rums. In
some cases, the older rums were not only smoother but had a far
more intense and concentrated flavour. But in others, they just
tasted old for the sake of being old--smooth but without
character. The bottom line here is to remember that just because
a rum carries a hefty price doesn't necessarily mean it's good.