Rum and rye from the cocktail crypt
During the Tales of the Cocktail a few of us hopped in a cab one evening to visit Stephen Remsberg, who lives in New Orleans and has arguably the world's best private collection of rums – many of them uniquely historic. (An account of Stephen and his collection leads off chapter ten in And a Bottle of Rum.)His house in the Broadmoor neighborhood took on several feet of water in the wake of Katrina, and required major reconstruction of the first floor. He and his wife moved back in a couple of months back, yet the rebuilding continues. The kitchen countertops are still made of chipboard, we had to take turns leaning on the dishwasher door for it to function, and there's still a murky water line about chest height on the sliding door to the backyard.
And the rums? Most survived the flooding. The chief problem was that the nearly 700 bottles sat in 90-degree-plus heat for two weeks or more in a house full of water; the humidity caused the labels to slip off quite a few. But otherwise, the collection emerged in tact.
Our crew of topers last Saturday evening consisted of me, Ted "Dr. Cocktail" Haigh, Jeff "Beachbum" Berry, and his wife, Annene (a/k/a Mrs. Bum). And what a treat! Stephen graciously cracked opened several rare bottles of spirits for us to sample – all of which were still sealed with the original government stamps. This included a superb Austin Nichols Boston rum, which had been distilled in 1917 then aged in the barrel through the whole of Prohibition, finally seeing the inside of a bottle in 1934. It was full and rich, with a strong molasses aroma and a subtle maple taste. As Stephen put it, "it's one of the last survivors of an extinct kind of rum."
But the real treat – and I'm stepping off the rum reservation here a bit – was in sampling a few extraordinary ryes Stephen had acquired since late last year. (It's a new interest of his, but he swears he won't abandon rum, his true love.) These included a Sherwood rye made in Maryland around 1916 and bottled in Baltimore (as a prescription medicine) in 1927; a 1920 Pennsylvania rye that was bottled after Prohibition; and a Mount Vernon (Maryland) rye distilled in 1933 and bottled in 1937.
The biggest surprise for me was the Old Overholt Rye, a four-year-old bonded Monongahela rye produced right after Prohibition and aged four years. Even though the aroma tended toward the uninteresting, the flavor turned out to be complex and rich, with scents of licorice and the lingering taste of lemon and tangerine – a far cry from what's sold under the same name today.
This was the very essence of a memorable evening – how often do you get to taste a bit of past so directly?
The blurry video I took captures a few of these memorable moments. Stephen is in the blue shirt, Jeff in green, and Ted in pink.
Labels: history





