I currently have partial bottles of Reserva de la Familia Anejo Tequila and Ron Zacapa 23-year old rum being neglected (yes, the worst kind of alcohol abuse) in my refrigerator door. They have been there for close to 6 months, ever since the sweltering SoCal heat showed up and serendipitously led me into an exclusive love affair with all things hoppy (meaning, only beer).

This is the reasoon for the horse sounds. When I lifted the snifter to my nose the presence of alcohol, and most importantly, the lack of a piney, citrusy, floral hop aroma, immediately triggered a lupulin threshold panic attack. And that was it. Any chance of a fair review was immediately dashed. I bolted for the deck, grabbed a 22 of Racer 5, poured half down my throat, the other half on my face and narrowly avoided a scene.

A couple days later (a quick recovery after excessive self-medication) I returned to the platinum rum and I can honestly say that I agree with at least half of what John the Wop rambled on about above. In particular, the part about the cane. I had actually just tried chewing a fresh piece of cane for the first time a few weeks earlier at my parent’s house, and it was definitely that subtle, earthy sweetness that made this rum a rather pleasant sipper.