Friday, August 14, 2015

Barreling Forward

I am now part of a group that is doing small barrel batches of cocktails and alcohol. Our previous two (the 12 Year Itch, which is Fernet, Antica Formula and Zaya 12-year rum; and a Perfect Manhattan) were both very good, but largely followed existing recipes. For our next, we've decided to break ground and try a rum blend, and we're doing it with precious little to go on in the way of precedence. So...where to begin?

My initial thoughts were to start with something very neutral, but softer than the typical Bacardi white. Fortunately, that was easy: I'm currently grooving on the Plantation 3 Star rum, which was introduced to me by Nicholas Feris of The Rum Collective during a Plantation tasting last year. Outside of a Cuba Libra, this inexpensive white has quickly replaced most other white rums for general use. It has a clean, clear, slightly sweet rum note that begs for complementary flavors.

Next, I wanted a little bite for the oak to mellow. Previous posts have sung the praises of Smith and Cross rum. Sharp, spicy and bitey, like an alley cat that will let you rub her belly until...NOW, it should introduce some interesting notes at the high end of the flavor profile.

We need the alcohol levels to be high going in, and if you want to boost the proof, I can't think of a better add than Wray and Nephew Overproof Rum. It's a staple around the house for falernum, but despite the 126-proof burn, it's not an unpleasant flavor and should help draw some of the flavors out of the barrel (which we're going to do a madeira soak on before we cask this concoction).

Finally, I wanted something to give us some elusive notes in small quantities. Our ratios for the above are 8:2:2, so with the majority of the blend so far focused on the 3 Star, a few flourishes shouldn't hurt. We're adding a bottle of King's Ginger, for a touch of a Scotch edge and of course the bold, bright ginger flavor of the liqueur (which is nestled quietly into the profile of the final mix, so we're not worried about overwhelming things). Finally, like those few drops of Pernod in a tiki drink, we'll top off the barrel with Cruzan Blackstrap rum, for a bit of color and and hint of dark (the barrel usually holds around 13-14 bottles, so if there's a bit of Cruzan left at the end of the day, we'll just have a Corn 'n' Oil or two and call it a day).

What will we have in a couple of months? I honestly don't have a clue. I'd lik
e to think we'll have a rum that started with some great high notes, and a midrange palate that will get filled in with the char and oak, making the final blend a candidate for Rum Old Fashioneds or a particularly complex base for simple tiki drinks. Part of what makes this so interesting is that we'll be making something that will be, in the truest sense of the word, unique. No other barrel, or environment, or preparation, or anything within this process–even if done to exacting standards by ourselves–will have the same result, for better or worse. If this works, we'll each have about a gallon of rum to savor and parse out for special occasions; if it's less than successful, well, one imagines I will still be able to choke it down with enough Coke and lime.

It's the quest of bartenders, mixologists and alcohol enthusiasts alike: to create something for a moment in time, for a specific audience, for a desired result. It's exciting to use our collected knowledge (and the shared knowledge of our local bartending community) to push the edges of alcohol knowledge a bit, and to share in the results of the labor at the appointed time. Whether I'll be gushing about the results, or finding ways to burn it off without anyone calling me on it, remains to be seen. For now, I've got a small vial of control sample, and a dream.