Since starting these rum reviews some three or so years ago, my love of rum has certainly evolved. I like to think that my skill at reviewing rum has evolved as well. Of late, I’ve taken great pride in digging into the rum experience and identifying subtleties and nuances that may not be immediately obvious. In my non-rum reviews, I’ve long struggled to avoid simply labeling any product as “good” or “bad”, instead seeking ways to identify the qualities of said product, and thereby letting the reader determine if it is suited to their own interests and tastes, and I hope to finally be doing the same in my rum reviews.
As such, it’s with some level of defeat that I hereby identify Santero 21 rum as being – simply put – very, very good. I explored this rum to the best of my ability, trying a glass here, a glass there – always seeking those unique characteristics that I might share with my readers to explain what sets this rum apart. And always I’ve failed. But don’t mistake my failure to identify this rum’s qualities as being a failure on the part of this rum’s creators – this is an awsome, noteworthy rum.
In the bottle, Santero 21 Rum is a rich amber, and classily packaged in a corked bottle with a wax seal “medallion” hanging from the throat. To the nose, I found this rum to be more sensation than scent – softly tingling, and just a touch cool. Indeed, on the smell scale it barely registered, save for a touch of maple. But even without overwhelming scent, it inspired a feeling that was both intriguing and inviting.
Santero 21 is almost equally elusive across the tongue. It quickly draws a strong but soft tingling sensation – not so much a burning, but something far gentler and more comforting. When swallowed, a definite aftertaste is present – one that clearly says, “rum was here,” although it is still on the subdued end of the scale.
Since I can’t explain the Santero 21 experience analytically, let me try to do so metaphorically – sipping Santero 21 is aking to being seduced by a ghost – it’s difficult to identify or quantify, but instead constantly darts around the peripherals. And yet, each sip is deep and intoxicating. It draws you in – inviting your attention rather than demanding it as many rums do. Having partaken of better than half a bottle over the past several weeks, I still can’t place my finger on this rum. But I know I enjoy it deeply, and I know I want more.
I highly recommend this rum to the experienced afficianado. And if you can better analyze it than could I, I would welcome your emails.