Some of our readers have complained about how much work it takes to prep, mix, and serve a proper tropical rum drink. The Bum couldn't agree more. No one dislikes work as much as he, which is why he often (too often, if you ask the local gendarmerie) will simply drink his rum straight, no chaser. To that end, he has trawled the few neighborhood liquor stores that haven't banned him for life to give you the rum-down on what to sip and what to skip.
The average price of these premium rums is in the $30 range, so we highly recommend you try to find them in those 1-1/2 ounce mini bottles. If the mini leaves you wanting more, you know it's safe to shell out for a whole fifth.
One more thing before we uncork: This list is by no means complete. There are lots of other rums out there that the Bum hasn't gotten around to trying yet. Hey, after all, he is a bum.
Rums are not generally subtle. Rum drinkers are not generally looking for subtlety. We want that broadside that only a dusky liquor distilled from molasses can deliver. But subtle is the word for Sea Wynde. When this blend of rums from Jamaica and Guyana first hits your tongue, you'd almost think you were drinking a single malt Scotch. Then comes the buttery, rummy finish, with an end-note of 92 proof equatorial heat.
A waking dream of charred oak floating gently down a river of honey. This 17-year-old Barbados rum spreads across the palate like a Rubens courtesan across a divan. It's a generous, fulsome delight from start to finish.
Many wood-barrel-aged rums tend to hit the same notes, but this cognac-like Haitian elixir has a character unique unto itself. Complex yet silky smooth, full-bodied yet delicate, it's magnificent in its contradictions.
This rich, opulent blend of Virgin Islands rums, some up to 12 years old, is a steal at around $20 a bottle. You don't just drink it, you luxuriate in its singular flavor and creamy consistency.
If the pipe-smoking, cravat-wearing, classics-quoting members of an oak-panelled, Edwardian gentlemen's club had their deepest thoughts preserved in amber and then fermented, they might taste like this. An essential purchase – do not deny yourself the pleasure of this peerless experience from Venezuela.
It's positively ambrosial. It's sold in a cool wooden crate. There's only one thing wrong with this dark, voluptuous rum from the island of Anguilla: It costs $235. And Pyrat offers no consolation prize – Cask is the only good rum in their entire product line. (The next rung down the ladder, Pyrat Planter's Gold XO Reserve, is cloyingly, chemically sweet.) So if anyone ever makes the mistake of asking you what you want for your birthday, now you know what to say.
This is a friendly rum. If you were alone at a party, this rum would walk over to you, extend its hand, and say, "Hey, how are you?" And not just to be polite – it would really want to know. It's even more ingratiating over an ice cube or two.
Here's a real oddity – an aged amber rum distilled in Kelso, Tennessee. Like Tennessee, it doesn't have the most refined taste in the world. But it does have a curious buoyancy, with a pleasant midpalate hint of lemon peel. Try it in a Rum Mist: A jigger poured over crushed ice in a small snifter or old-fashioned glass.
Aged in small batches on the island of Grenada, this light-bodied gold rum makes a great first impression with an accent of vanilla and an aroma of jungle gardenia. But alas, when sipped straight it outstays its welcome with a harsh alcoholic finish. Dilution is the solution: You can enjoy the taste and ease the burn by serving Westerhall over ice cubes.
This ten-year-old Barbados rum starts off strong with notes of tobacco and toffee, but the music soon dies – killed off by a dischordant alcohol afterburn. Icing it helps, but at $40 to $50 a bottle, Seale's is wildly overpriced no matter how you drink it.
At 150 proof, the fumes emitted by this white lightning from Tobago can burn you a third nostril. But once you get past that doctor's office smell, the flavor is surprisingly subtle, teasingly elusive, downright sneaky. The stuff practically evaporates in your mouth on contact, leaving a parting gift of crisp, clean, pure cane sugar. Pour it over crushed ice to improve the aroma, then sip slowly to improve your outlook on life.
A velvety blend of Trinidad rums with a pleasant hint of caramel. Float a couple of ice cubes and you're golden.
We've advised icing the other rums in this category because they're a little rough around the edges, but there's nothing rough about Zaya. This 12-year-old Guatemalan import is as sweet as they come. ln fact, it's practically pancake syrup. If you've got a sweet tooth, you'll love it straight, but it only works for us as an after-dinner liqueur substitute, served over crushed ice. (Another Guatemalan, 23-year-old ZACAPA CENTENARIO, comes very highly rated by critics, but it's so sugary we can't imagine drinking it in anything other than a Sno-Cone.)
After a few sips of this pungent, pirate-pleasin', ten-year-old dark Jamaican, you might find yourself falling out of love and into a funk over its somewhat anonymous, factory-tooled character. Or maybe just over the outrageous $50 price tag.
At only four years old, this Nicaraguan import is the baby of the bunch. But it's a precocious child, and it plays well with others. Not only does it make a great Tropical Collins (see page 88 of Intoxica), but it's nuanced enough to stand on its own, mellowing nicely in a Rum Mist (see PRITCHARD'S above for intructions).
The Cuban Missile Crisis? The Bay Of Pigs? Get over it, America. Havana Club is contraband with a capital "C." The nose seems a tad medicinal upon decanting, but your first sip belays that olfactory illusion with a burst of mellow, earthy, layered flavor redolent of cigar smoke and afternoon sunlight. Well worth hitting up your Mexican or Canadian pals to score you a bottle.
Lemon Hart's definitive Demerara rum is, fortunately, widely available in the US; but for some reason its equally wonderful Jamaica rums can now only be had in Europe. Endeavor to obtain them — both the gold and the dark outshine every other brand on the American market.
At first glance, this is exactly the sort of mass-produced, unaged white rum you'd never think of drinking straight. But Leilani almost lives up to its 1970s ad copy: "An act of the gods made this the best-tasting rum in the world." Which is why it pains us to tell you that Leilani went out of business years ago. The Bum found a tiny, airline-sized bottle by chance in a box of one-dollar junk at the Rose Bowl swap meet in Pasadena; he was initially attracted to the "Hawaii 5-0" style label – and subsequently bowled over when he worked up the courage to sample the contents. Scour the shelves of old liquor stores and you may find a bottle of your own.

Alas, also no longer manufactured. This gold Puerto Rican rum came in the legendary 1962 Mai-Kai "fishing god" tiki decanter (pictured above). When the Bum spotted one of these decanters at the Liquor Castle in Beverly Hills, still intact after 35 years on the shelf, he snapped it up. It hardly mattered to him whether the rum in it was any good ... but when he finally decided to break the seal and pour himself a shot, he discovered a silken, provocative potion that went down so easy, before he knew it the bottle was empty. So if you too happen to come across a vintage Mai-Kai decanter, don't hesitate to open it — there's gold in them thar gods.