Originally published in Alcoholmanac Magazine, June/July 2012

 

Dark rum. Of all the rum varieties out there—white, gold, amber, solera, agricole … it’s dark rum that best represents pop-culture’s impression of rum itself. And yet it’s also dark rum that so often seems the least appreciated. Lighter rums are routinely featured in Mai Tais, Bahama Mamas and other tropical cocktails, and more sophisticated blends are “promoted” as on par with fine cognacs and brandies (to be enjoyed in the study next to a roaring fire, most likely while wearing a smoking jacket). But dark rum often sits aside as a bench warmer, waiting to be used in cooking, or perhaps—if it’s very lucky—finding its way into the hands of an unusually daring mixologist.

Of all the popular spirits, it’s rum that has perhaps the shadiest origin. In the 17th century, the West Indies (or Caribbean, as kids are calling it these days) was cranking out sugar faster than Hollywood cranks out reboots and sequels. Unfortunately, sugar-refinement isn’t exactly the most efficient of processes, and anywhere from 33-75% of the original sugarcane juice was eventually disposed of as waste product—a dark, sticky scum known as molasses. And while molasses certainly had its uses (sweetener, horse food, low-grade mortar when mixed with crushed egg shells, etc), sugar production far outpaced any possible demand for molasses, and therefore most of this resulting by-product was simply dumped into the ocean. At least, such was the case until some industrious individual (many presume an Irishman) realized you could ferment the stuff, thus resulting in a rare blend of capitalistic ingenuity and the reduce-reuse-recycle spirit of the yet-to-be invented green movement. Rum was born; at this point a dreadful beverage derived from industrial waste and considered suitable for consumption only by dregs of society. Indeed, in 17th century Barbados, rum was said to be cheaper than drinking water, and thus especially appealed to the poverty-stricken who surely found great comfort in its hellish potency (although it likely did little for their job prospects).

 

Early rum was nothing to write home about (and nothing to export—in 1655 Barbados generated an estimated 900,000 gallons of rum and consumed all but 207 gallons domestically). But time would pass and the process of rum development matured. Transport and storage in oak barrels led to accidental aging; oak tannins mingled with the rum to transform what was originally the drinkable equivalent of rubbing alcohol into something far more appealing. As the aging process was fine-tuned, rum truly came into its own and resulted in the spirit we know today—a rich, heady beverage with one foot in modern sophistication, and the other in its roguish past.

 

By its very nature, dark rum is steeped in robust textures and bold flavors. Many of today’s high-end rums strive to please the more sophisticated palate with delicate balances of fruits, candy and vegetation, but dark rum typically remains closer to its roots. Still made from molasses and generally aged in charred oak barrels (frequently used are bourbon barrels), dark rum should be approached with cautious respect. Subtle nuances can be found by the careful taster, but they’re generally hiding beneath prominent trappings of savory molasses, maple and oak.

 

While it’s true that dark rum might lack the delicacy of its more genteel cousins, it still has much to offer any brave souls willing to take the plunge. It’s certainly not for everyone, but if you’re the sort of adventurer that enjoys your espresso black, your chocolate dark and bitter, or your cigars maduro, then you’ll probably find a dark rum or two to your liking.