To Tell a Story

So, I had dinner with F. Paul Pacult a couple of months ago.

F. Paul Pacult runs the Spirit Journal newsletter, on top of an impressive body of writing, books and efforts to improve the exposure and quality of spirits (and their coverage). Rum is a particular passion of his (as is evidenced by his Rum For All initiative). This is a man who is passionate and knowledgeable about spirits. So, yeah, a person you would like to have dinner with.

And, when I say "with F. Paul Pacult" I really mean "with Steve, in a room with F. Paul Pacult." Steve's a friend of mine who I get together with every so often to drink and chat. It's something I look forward to every time, because he is funny and engaging and smart and picks up the tab half the time. He arranged for us to attend the event at The Ravens Club in Ann Arbor, and was my compatriot in crime for the evening.

And, when I say "dinner," I mean a five course extravaganza, paired with eight samplings of rum (plus a drink upon arrival). You can see the menu and drink list here. This was an amazing evening, with great food, wonderful company, and a funny and knowledgeable host. I want you to repeat that last sentence over and over again as we continue with our little story.

Before. (After is left to the imagination.)

So, when we sat down to dinner, we were already one drink into our evening, and had a row of eight shotglasses lined up for our pairings. All of the rums were great (half of them were already part of my bar, and a fifth has been since added–more on that next week). I immediately managed to knock over one (the Ron Zacapa 23 Year, which is as heinous an act of alcohol abuse as I've managed in a while), which was graciously replaced. We were a happy band of adventurers, ready for our rum exploration.

Thing is, that Paul is an enthusiastic presenter, and both he and us were eagerly anticipating each new rum we approached. So much so, that we got a bit ahead of the kitchen, as in we were on rum five about the time course two arrived from the kitchen. We were all desperately trying to hold a little back from each glass for the appropriate food, but rum is SOOOOOOOO good.

At this point, let us state a truism. We were a room of intelligent, sophisticated adults, there to learn about rum and to appreciate the nuances of the spirits presented. We were a warm and appreciative audience. But, good intentions aside, we were on our sixth drink when our second small plate was served. Whoever you may be, six drinks and you're going to be a bit on the toasty side.

And this is, of course, also the moment that our urbane New York City host realized that he was trapped in a room full of drunk Midwesterners. He'd already had to shush us more than a room of third graders, and by the time we took a break to let the kitchen catch up, one imagines he was already inwardly terrified that we'd all break out the Schlitz beer and start a spontaneous fish fry or something.

I took advantage of the break to approach him, finding him at the bar positioned as to protect his body from the increasing levels of inebriated provincialism in the room. I'd like to think I was coherent and concise, thanking him for the event and gushing for a moment over Ron Zacapa Etiqueta Negra (a 23-year dark rum with a Germany- and Italy-only release). He was gracious, also a fan of the Etiqueta Negra, and appreciative of my enthusiasm for his presentation.

You see, despite the amount of knowledge we were given, and the new rums explored (the Clement 6-Year Rhum Agricole was a revelation, and the Smith and Cross pairing with the foie torchon was amazing), one of his points–a side point, perhaps, for him, but my biggest takeaway from the evening–is that our preferences and favorites, and indeed the spirits themselves, are as much about the mythology, the history, the research–the storytelling–as the flavors themselves.

This blog is devoted to alcohol, but it's the story of myself and alcohol. I rely on experiences and repetition more than my unremarkable palate, and lean on the knowledge and bars of professionals as much as possible. If there's any particular skill that I bring to the table, it's telling the story of why a drink or an alcohol should be worthy of your attention–but not until I have a good story to tell.

And I've been remiss in my storytelling. I hope to get back on track in the next couple of weeks, and I have stories to tell–scotch in Boston, my steampunk drink journey, and more. So, welcome back, and I'll try and do a better and more timely job with entries.

Also, yay rum.