St. Lucia, gnarly brown, and peanuts

I recently laid my hands on a bottle of Castries Peanut Rum Crème because, well, it's got rum in it. And I sometimes like an emulsified cream liqueur, like Bailey's. But I have to admit, my first thought was: Peanuts? Ewww.

Castries has a story and tradition behind it: peanut punch is pretty common throughout the West Indies, just like soursop punch, pumpkin punch, and banana punch.

It's way to take a common ingredient and put it to work as a cooling potion. It's often made with peanuts ground up and mixed with water, milk (often evaporated), sugar and maybe some vanilla or nutmeg.

But mixed with rum? Not all that common.

Castries Rum Crème is made on St. Lucia, and uses African vanilla, peanuts, a few spices, and local rum. It's sold in an opaque bottle that looks a bit like it swallowed a few tennis balls. It's 32 proof (about the same as Bailey's), and thick and luscious. And it smells like peanuts.

The taste: actually, not all that peanuty. At least not at first sip. The initial hit is more of cream and liquor, although the liquor isn't immediately identifable as rum. The aftertaste is slightly peanuty, and in a good way. Not roasted peanuts, but raw and fresh. My chief hesitation: the product is thick and viscous – it seems somehow thicker and more mealy than the always-velvety Baileys, but that might be more the power of sensory suggestion ("peanuts!") than anything tactile.

I started thinking about a cocktail that might employ this to good effect. Castries has some cute drink suggestions, including a peanut butter cup (with chocolate liqueur and vanilla vodka). That's not bad. I also played around with a peanut-butter-and jelly cocktail using crème de casis, but that's not an experiment I need to repeat any time soon.

Then I started thinking about Thai food. Mmmm... Thai food. So I mixed it with ginger ale – it's my belief that peanut and ginger is one of the world's great combos. And this mix actually worked fine – about two parts ginger ale to one part Castries yields a concotion with a taste that engages. You don't think "Thai," but it strikes the comfort food chord better than the peanut butter cup or the PB & J. (At least it did for me.)

Problem: the appearance. You know how it looks when you mix vanilla ice cream with root beer – you get those filmy, gnarly brown bubbles that climb up the side of the glass. Yeah. And what looks like a bit of curdling, or at least de-emulsification. (Lime with your peanut and ginger? Don't go there.)

But lean back, close your eyes, and sip – and it's pretty OK.

It's probably still best served neat, consumed by someone who truly loves peanuts. That, sadly, is not me.

Castries Peanut Rum Creme