His & Her Reviews Special Edition: Appleton Estate 12 Rare Casks Jamaican Rum

I’ve been slowly dipping my toes into rum this fall, so I’ve called in the previous rum authority in the family: my sister-in-law. Her review follows.

My sister has a hit-and-miss history with rum, so I’m subbing in again for His & Her Reviews duty. I on the other hand, get along just fine with rum, or at least Jamaican rum. I’ll confess to never having explored agricole rhum or Barbancourt in any real depth…because there’s Jamaican rum.

Nose: This isn’t just baked cinnamon apples, this is Boston Market cinnamon apples. Specifically, it’s Boston Market cinnamon apples that have been baked inside a maple syrup factory. This ain’t the cheap stuff, this is the heavy, clinging syrup that’s likely got an outline of Vermont on the bottle. This nose is a hotline to my childhood. Although my sister might observe I still eat like a child sometimes. Look, I’m just trying to be a hip aunt, OK?

Palate: I initially yelled at my brother-in-law that he must have given me Wray & Nephew or Smith + Cross, because man this kicked in the door with guns blazing to start. Even though I knew this wasn’t Overproof, I had to check the label twice to convince myself it was 86 proof. After a second sip, I realized that even though it’s a tad hot to be only 86 proof, it’s just that *funky.* There was so munch banana-and-barrel funk, it briefly overloaded my tongue. By that second and third sip, you’re being treated to a wonderful duet of bananas foster and salted caramel sauce. This is something between brunch and dessert in a glass.

Finish: The classic overripe banana note that, to me, is a hallmark of good Jamaican stuff comes barreling in as soon as you swallow. For me, I just instantly experience hot from the oven banana bread, and in my mind’s eye see crates of banana stacked on a pier by the ocean. Following that bombastic banana note comes honey that slowly transitions to molasses in a nicely executed, fairly lengthy finish.

Summary: My brother-in-law can tell you about the particulars of why Jamaican rum tastes the way it does. For me, I’m content with just knowing it’s *good.* While most people are going to think “Bacardi silver” or some over-sugared beach drink when rum gets mentioned, I contend a solid Jamaican rum served neat is the Platonic ideal of the spirit and also an eye-opening experience for most whiskey drinkers. Afterall, doesn’t everyone have a little Cap’n Jack Sparrow in them?

Image courtesy of Jon who also writes on Low Class & High Proof.

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