Beginner's Guide to Rum

The origins of rum are shrouded in mystery, but are clearly tied up in the history of sugar.

Cutting cane in the 19th century via University of Virginia

During the 17th century, sugar was big business. The colonial powers who had claimed land in the Caribbean realized that many of the islands presented a perfect environment for growing sugarcane. Refined sucrose was made from the sweet juice crushed from cane stalks that was repeated boiled to concentrate it and drive off water. However, each step produced less and less pure sugar, eventually leaving a gooey mass of caramelized sugars, minerals, and other insoluble substances known as molasses. At the beginning, this represented a major problem, as the molasses was effectively industrial waste with little to no value.

17th century sugar refinery via Sugar at LSU

However, whether through accident or intention, someone on one of the sugar-producing islands, probably Barbados, realized that the molasses could be fermented into a foul but alcoholic liquid. From that point it was a small step to distill the molasses mash to produce a crude but potent liquor.

Early rum was little more palatable than the mash it came from - fermentation likely would have been via wild yeasts and bacteria, producing all sorts of peculiar and sometimes toxic compounds that would not necessarily have been removed from the final spirit due to unsophisticated distillation technology and techniques, plus consumption occurring more or less immediately after the spirit came off the still.

An Antigua rum distillery in 1823 via University of Virginia

To begin with, rum was primarily drunk by the same slaves who worked the plantation cane fields, using it to take the edge off of their miserable existence. But as time went on, more effort was put into the production process - more care was taken during fermentation, better stills were built, more attention was paid to proper cuts, and it was discovered that rum that had made its way across the Atlantic was significantly better after a sojourn in wooden barrels.

As time went on, different styles of rum emerged in the various colonies. Spanish rum, especially in Cuba, developed into a lighter, crisper style, especially after the introduction of the column still in the 19th century. English colonies produced somewhat heavier, richer styles, especially in Barbados, Jamaica, and Guyana. The French colonies largely went in another direction, distilling rum directly from cane juice, rather than from molasses (this is also true of Portuguese Brazil, but their cachaça is another thing again). But even within these styles, there is a wild diversity due to the fact that, unlike many other spirits, there are almost no regulations governing what can be labeled as 'rum'. If it's produced from sugarcane and distilled, then it can be called rum.

So where to start?

It's a bit of a toss-up between Spanish-style rums and Barbados. Both tend towards the lighter end of the spectrum, though Spanish-style rums will tend to be a bit lighter and crisper. One good place to start is Mount Gay Eclipse Dark from Barbados. It's not a particularly complex rum, but it establishes the fundamentals and works very well in cocktails. If you want something a bit richer, Mount Gay Extra Old or Cockspur 12 are both good picks.

For the Spanish (also sometimes called Puerto Rican) style, a good start is Flor de Caña's Extra Dry from Nicaragua, which has the lightness and crispness that is the hallmark of younger rums in this style, making it my first choice for cocktails that call for white rum. Moving up the scale, Ron Abuelo 7 Year from from Panama adds more richness and depth while retaining some of the crispness, making it my go-to rum for drinks that call for an amber Puerto Rican rum. Further along, it's hard to beat Ron Matusalem 15 Gran Reserva. While on the sweeter side due to many years in oak, it also has the heavy dose of pepper that holds the sweetness in check.

Next up is Guyana, which is known for sweeter rums with a noticeably heavy body. All rum from the country is made by one company, Demerara Distillers Limited, but the wild array of stills within their possession allow them to produce an incredible variety of different rums. The best are released under their own El Dorado label. Start with either the white 3 Year or amber 5 Year, which are relatively light but still richly flavored. From there you can move up the scale from the medium-range 8 Year to the still heavier 12 and 15 Year expressions. For tiki drinks, you'll also want the inestimable Lemon Hart 151 on hand, which is an overproof dark rum that is absolutely packed with flavor.

When it comes to Jamaican rums, the first place to start is Appleton's V/X expression. It's quite affordable and provides a ready introduction to the island's high-ester style. You can also move up the range to Appleton's Reserve (not my favorite) and Estate Extra (much better) for increasing levels of molasses sweetness, barrel flavor, and complexity/subtlety. If you want to kick it up a notch, spend the extra money for Smith & Cross, which is an in-your-face rum with an intensity comparable to heavily peated Islay whiskies. For drinks calling for dark Jamaican rum, my first choice would be Coruba, which is a very heavy style with lots of burnt sugar flavor on top of the Jamaican funk.

One of my favorite styles of rum are cane juice rums, often called rhum agricole. These are primarily produced on the French (and formerly French) islands of Martinique, Haiti, and Guadeloupe. In contrast to molasses-based rums, rhum agricole is produced from fresh squeezed cane juice. It has to be processed very promptly, as wild yeasts living in the cane will begin to ferment it not long as the cane is cut. As the name suggests, these rhums tend to have very agricultural flavors, with a distinctive grassiness and funk that can be off-putting at first. One way to ease into this category is Westerhall Plantation Rum from Grenada, which is a mix of cane juice rum and molasses-based rum. Once you're ready to really dive in, either a blanc rhum from Rhum J.M. or La Favorite or an élevé sous bois (aged in wood) from Rhum J.M. are good places to start. Once you get a handle on those, move on to the older VSOP and Vieux expressions from the likes of Barbancourt, Clément, Neisson, or La Favorite. You'll notice a certain repetition of brands, because there unfortunately aren't a lot too choose from in the United States right now. Saint James is also a good pick, but distribution was pulled within the last few years, so it's getting rather thin on the ground.

Pretty much every country in the Caribbean basin has produced sugar at one time or another and thus has its own rum industry as well. The Dominican Republic has its own twist on the Spanish style, represented by Brugal - try their Extra Viejo. Cuba, spiritual home of the Spanish style, is well-known for its Havana Club rums, but I have yet to sample them, as they're illegal to important into the United States. If you're elsewhere, try the 7 Year, which seems to be the sweet spot. Puerto Rico is obviously known for the dominant Bacardi brand, but I would skip their rums other than possible the 8 Años, though the previously mentioned Ron Abuelo 7 Year is similar but better. I've also heard good things about Don Q's Añejo as a tiki drink ingredient, especially for the tricky Nui Nui. The US Virgin Islands host another powerhouse, Cruzan, which has unfortunately slipped in quality since its takeover by Jim Beam, though the Single Barrel has a certain appeal. Antigua produces Pyrat rum, though the one time I tried it, it tasted more like Mountain Dew than rum to me. Trinidad has some great rums, especially from the now-defunct Caroni distillery. Scarlet Ibis, put together by Haus Alpenz, is a fantastic mashup of styles that simultaneously reminds me of Guyanese and Jamaican rums at the same time. Angostura, maker of the eponymous bitters, is the lone remaining distiller in Trinidad. Their older 1919 expression sounds like a great dessert rum.

Brazil, which should probably get its own post, produces cachaça, which is made from cane juice like rhum agricole, but uses different production techniques that give it a distinct flavor profile while retaining a similar vegetal grassiness. Check out Cachaçagora if you'd like to learn more, but Boca Loca makes a perfectly decent product if you want to try cachaça-based cocktails like the caipirinha. There was also an attempt to move cachaça upmarket by mixing it with a bit of aged Venezualan rum and putting it in a fancy package - a strange product called Oronoco. It gets rave reviews from some, but I'd try it before investing in a whole bottle.

Moving clockwise around the Caribbean, Venezuala produces quite a bit of rum, primarily under the Ron Diplomatico label. It doesn't tickle my fancy, but if you enjoy sweeter rums, their Reserva Exclusiva expression gets a lot of love in some quarters. I prefer Santa Teresa's 1796 more, which isn't as overwhelmingly sweet.

Central America also produces quite a bit of rum. I've mentioned Panama and Nicaragua, but Guatemala gets a lot of love for its Ron Zacapa, especially the 23 year Centenario.

America also produces rum, especially the new craft distillery movement. One of the more established is Louisiana's Celebration Distillers, who make New Orleans Rum. Close to home, House Spirits and other small distillers in Portland have been making a wide variety of rum, albeit with mixed results.

Beginners Guide to Bourbon and Rye Whiskey

On the heels of my guide to scotch whisky, I thought I would turn to something a little bit closer to home. While rum may have launched the United States, bourbon and its cousin rye whiskey are the spirits now most closely associated with America.

American whiskey production grew out of the settlement of the Ohio River Valley. After independence, white settlers began to move west of the Appalachian Mountains, which had previously been restricted by the British government, eager to keep their colonists close to the coast where they could be more easily taxed. The farmers who grew crops in the extremely fertile region, including lots of corn, rye, and barley, found that it wasn't economically feasible to transport their grain east of the mountains where most of the demand for their products was to be found. However, if those grains were fermented and distilled, the resulting whiskey had a lot more value per pound, meaning that money could be made even after shipping it over the Appalachians. This fueled the almost insatiable appetite for liquor during the 19th century, when the average American drank about five gallons of absolute alcohol in a year (this translates to roughly one 750 mL bottle of 80-proof liquor in a week).

Column still at Wild Turkey via Alcademics

These early whiskeys would have been rather rough 'n ready, with thousands of small distilleries producing spirits from whatever grains were cheapest at the time. Most would have been using small copper pot stills and without the tools to precisely measure alcohol concentration, relying on experience and guesswork to judge when to make cuts. That meant significant amounts of unpleasant compounds from the heads and tails of a run would have made it into the hearts cut. Batch variation would have been significant - without purified yeasts to inoculate the wort and less rigorous decontamination of their equipment, wild yeasts and bacteria would often infect the mash, producing all sorts of peculiar compounds. Direct fired stills making for uneven heating of the wort, producing another set of potentially off compounds. Barrel aging would have been more often than not incidental, a product of shipment rather than planning. Which is all to say that these whiskeys would have been very different from the mellow and refined spirits we know and love today.

Now there are very tight regulations about how bourbon and rye whiskeys must be produced if the distillers want to label them as 'straight' bourbon or rye whiskey. First, bourbon must be made from a mash of between 51 and 80% corn, with the balance being made up with rye or wheat (the flavoring grain) and malted barley (the enzymes in malt convert starches from the other grains into fermentable sugars). Distillation must be to no more than 160-proof (80% alcohol) and the distillate must be diluted to no more than 125-proof (62.5% alcohol) for aging in new charred oak barrels. At that point it can be called bourbon whiskey. To gain the 'straight' moniker, the bourbon must be aged for at least two years. Bottling, whether straight bourbon or not, must be at least 80-proof (40% alcohol). American rye whiskey conforms to the same requirements, except that the mash must contain at least 51% rye, with the balance being made up with corn and malted barley.

The main axis for understanding bourbon and rye whiskey is the percentage of rye in the mash bill. Rye both adds spiciness to whiskey and covers up some of the inherent sweetness from the corn. Just outside the spectrum are wheated bourbons, which use wheat as a flavoring grain instead of rye. This makes for a much softer bourbon, without the chili pepper burn found in most rye recipe bourbons. The most well-known wheated bourbon is Maker's Mark, but I generally prefer Weller bourbons. At the beginning of the rye recipe bourbon spectrum, go for something like Buffalo Trace with 8% rye in its mash bill. Rye flavors will be present, but tend to give way to corn sweetness. In the mid range, Wild Turkey, Ezra Brooks, and Evan Williams bourbons are all made from a 13% rye mash bill and most of Jim Beam's whiskeys are made with a 15% rye mash bill. Here rye becomes a more significant presence, but is still in balance with the corn. Above this, we enter what is generally thought of as 'high rye' territory. Four Roses uses two different 'high rye' mash bills, one at 20% and another at a whopping 35% (the latter is the source for Bulleit bourbon). Jim Beam maintains a legacy 30% rye mash bill for their Old Grand Dad and Basil Hayden expressions. In those whiskeys, rye will be more more prominent, making the bourbon both more spicy and less sweet.

From there exists a bit of a gap until you hit rye whiskeys. At 51% rye in the mash bill, Jim Beam (and their Old Overholt label) Rye and Sazerac 6 Year are just over the legal line. So while these are definitely rye whiskeys, with all the spicy herbal flavors that implies, they also retains a fair amount of corn sweetness, making them a good bridge between the two styles of whiskey. From there, it's a jump to whiskeys made with 65% rye in their mash bills - Rittenhouse, Wild Turkey, and Russell's Reserve. These are very spicy and much drier than bourbon. Finally, LDI/MGP uses a 95% rye mash bill for whiskey that is now released by a wide range of independent bottlers from Bulleit to Willett to Templeton to Redemption to George Dickel (if it's a new rye whiskey brand, then it's probably from LDI/MGP - they're the only distiller with spare rye capacity). To get above that, you'll have to turn to Canada - Alberta Distillers makes a 100% rye mash bill whisky. While usually blended into Canadian whiskies, it is also sold as Alberta Premium and now bottled by a number of American independent bottlers, ranging from Jefferson's to Masterson's and Whistle Pig.

The other axis to look at is age. Because bourbon and rye are aged in new charred oak barrels, they soak up flavor very quickly. This means that even a year or two can make a significant difference in flavors. It's best to keep the mash bill of the whiskeys you're comparing the same or similar to remove that variable from the equation. Many distillers offer whiskeys from the same mash bill at different ages, such as Buffalo Trace (~4-5 years old) and Eagle Rare (10 years old) or Wild Turkey (6-8 years old) and Russell's Reserve (10 years old) or Weller Special Reserve (~7 years old) and Weller 12 Year. Older whiskeys will tend to be more oaky and tannic, but also with more caramel and toffee flavors.

While this feels like a lot of information, hopefully it gives you a few places to start or expand your exploration of American whiskeys. Bourbon and rye are fantastic choices these days because there are still so many great whiskeys available for under $30, making it a very economical way to drink well.

Beginner's Guide to Scotch Whisky

I'm just going to hit the highlights here. For a more in-depth beginner's guide, hop over to Malt Madness for the inside scoop.

First off, scotch whisky (always without an e) is made in Scotland. The Scotch Whisky Association fights assiduously (successfully and unsuccessfully) to prevent distillers anywhere else in the world from marketing spirits that might be confused with real scotch. So what is it supposed to be?

There are two different types of whisky that usually spring to mind when people think of scotch. Single malt whisky gets most of the adulation, with big names like Glenfiddich, Glenlivet, and Macallan. Breaking down the name, it refers to a spirit made from 100% malted (partially germinated to convert starches into sugar, then arrested with heat) barley that is fermented and distilled in a copper pot still at one distillery, then aged in oak barrels for at least three years. Even mixing in a tiny amount of another single malt will transform it into a blended malt, which is a mixture of single malts from different distilleries.

The second variety, which is what makes most of the money, is blended whisky. These include whiskies like Johnnie Walker, Dewars, and Chivas. Blended whisky is a mixture of single malt whiskies, usually from many different distilleries, that is combined with grain whisky. This produces lighter and more consistent whiskies that appeal to a broad range of drinkers. Grain whisky is simply any whisky made in Scotland with grains other than malted barley. Additionally, it is usually distilled in column stills rather than pot stills, which gives it a lighter flavor and body. As with malt whisky, grain whisky must be aged for at least three years. And most importantly to the distillers, since grain whisky is cheaper to produce, diluting malt whisky with it to make blends increases margins.

From now on I'm mostly going to focus on single malt whiskies, the superstars of the scotch whisky crowd.

From Crister Sundin

Beyond the basic requirements, there are all sorts of factors that shape the final flavor of a whisky. These range from the location of the distillery, the source of the barley, the way that it is malted (by hand or in a large malting facility), whether the germinating malt is dried with hot air or burning peat, the type of yeast used, the length of time that it is fermented, how full the still is, how quickly it is distilled, the shape (distillers will sometimes try to have every bump and dent in a still replicated when they have new ones made) and configuration of the still (does the lyne arm rise or drop? does it have a purifier?), the type of condenser, where the cuts are made (foreshots, heart, and feints), how much the raw spirit is diluted before barreling, what type of barrel is used (ex-bourbon, ex-sherry, ex-port, other spirit or wine), how many times that barrel has been used before (virgin, first fill, second fill, etc), how long the whisky is aged, where it is aged (some whisky is aged on site, while others are trucked to centralized warehouses), to how much the whisky is diluted for bottling.

Which is to say that there are a lot of different things going on, so we'll start with a few.

In my opinion, the best place to start with single malts is Glenmorangie Original. I originally picked it up on John Hansell's recommendation - he rates it as one of the best whiskies on the market today, which is no small thing given the breadth and depth of his experience. Personally, I think it's a great place to start for a number of other reasons. First, Glenmorangie uses very tall stills, which produces a fairly light spirit. This means that Original is not overly aggressive, while retaining good flavor density. Secondly, the spirit is aged entirely in ex-bourbon barrels for ten years, which both help to give it an approachable set of flavors and mean that it is uncomplicated by the various types of wine finishes available to distillers these days. It's relatively simple - there isn't a vast array of flavors to pick out of it - but what's there is very good. As an added bonus, it provides a stepping stone to investigating Glenmorangie's cask finished whiskies - these include sherry, port, and sauternes. These cask finished whiskies begin their lives in the same way as the Original, aged for ten years in ex-bourbon barrels, before being re-casked for an additional two years. This means that they are fairly comparable - they're all built on the same foundation, so you can look for differences to understand what the various casks do to the whisky. These can be picked up inexpensively either by grabbing one of Glenmorangie's Discovery packs, which includes a full bottle of the Original alongside three miniature bottles of their cask finished whiskies, or the Glenmorangie Collection, which has four 100 mL bottles of the Original and the various cask finished whiskies. Either of these should be under $40.

So where to go from that beginning? There are a number of different axes to explore.

Probably the most important is the different ways that sherry can be introduced into whisky. Sherry was historically sold by Scottish merchants who imported casks of fortified wines from the Continent to make the rough local malt whisky more palatable by aging it in the empty wine casks after selling their original contents. There are a number of different strategies for aging scotch whisky in ex-sherry casks. One, as mentioned above, is cask finishing, where whisky that was previously matured in ex-bourbon casks is transferred to ex-sherry casks to absorb some of their flavor. Glenmorangie's Lasanta is one example, along with Balvenie Doublewood. Alternatively, whisky from ex-bourbon and ex-sherry casks can be married together. This is the method distilleries like Aberlour, Bunnahabhain, Bruichladdich, and Arran use for their standard expressions. Last, but not least, whisky can be aged in ex-sherry casks from day one. This method is used by distilleries like Macallan, Glenfarclas, and GlenDronach. Any one of these would be a fine place to start your exploration.

The second major factor is peat. Both maligned and loved, peat originally found its way into scotch whisky because Scotland doesn't have enough trees. It does, however, have a lot of peat. And peat could be burned to provide the heat to arrest the germination of malted barley, preparing it for fermentation. During the 19th century, coal became more readily available, so peat slowly shifted towards being something that was used to produce a particular character in the whisky, instead of being a necessity. While peat is most closely associated with whiskies produced on the island of Islay, peated whiskies are currently being produced in almost every corner of the country. While the smoky, vegetal flavors of peat aren't to everyone's liking, there are ways to dip your toe in the pool without jumping straight to notorious heavyweights like Laphroaig or Ardbeg. A good place to start would be something like Clynelish 14 or Highland Park 12. Both start off with about 1/2 to 1/3 the amount of peaty compounds found in the Islay bruisers. This means that there is some smoke, but it doesn't overpower the other elements of the malt. Stepping up a notch, check out Springbank 10, Bowmore 12, Talisker 10 or Caol Ila 12. All of these are 'moderatedly peated', with about 50-60% of the intensity of the big boys. However, if you really want to go all out, Ardbeg 10, Laphroaig 10, BenRiach Curiositas, or Longrow CV might tickle your fancy. While the peat wars have raised the maximum, these are all still very firmly in the peaty camp, almost billowing with smoke.

Hopefully all of this hasn't been too overwhelming. There are many more features to explore, but these should give you some places to begin you're journey. It's an amazing place given that everything begins with some partially sprouted grain, but from those humble begins scotch can take on an almost infinite variety of flavors.