The Holy Spirit
THE RAKE’s Libation Correspondent retires to a former monastery in Guatemala and rises early to discover how Zacapa — one of the finest rums in Christendom — is made.
I arrived in Guatemala City in the dark. It was stormy and the roads were flooded. The locals drove their mopeds through the deepest sections — flip-flops on, hoodies on, lights on, if you’re lucky. As my driver tried to keep up with the 20 or so bikes making their way out of the city, I nodded off, and it wasn’t until we hit the cobbled streets of Antigua Guatemala, west of the capital, that I was roused from my slumber. I was dropped off outside a large door and a sign that said “no knives or guns”. This was Casa Santo Domingo, a former monastery founded by Dominican friars in 1542. At 11pm, after 15 hours of travelling, I felt that little about it gave the impression of ‘former’, and I wondered whether I had been very bad and that this would be my new life. I was led through several corridors containing relics of a Catholic past and reflected that I would make an even worse nun than I do a Catholic. Statue after statue confirmed that Santo Domingo was the biggest and richest monastery in Antigua until three earthquakes put a halt to their practice. What survives, however, is beautiful. There are two crypts, one of which, the Calvary Crypt, has an original mural of the crucifixion dating from 1683. But fear not: while history is everywhere you look, you can expect all the modern comforts here. For example, a gym has been installed in a cosy corner overlooking the pool area, where you can genuflect/squat your day away, and the spa is known to be one of the best in Guatemala.
On my first morning, I crept out of my room at 5am and was astonished to see a volcano in the distance. I have seen many a hump in my time, but a volcano — and this will sound silly — really does look like a volcano. It loomed ominously, and its inconsistent smouldering reminds you that it is very much not asleep.
Many hours of sweating (exercise, not climate) and breakfasting later, we began our ‘official’ day with a tour of the city. Until the 18th century, Guatemala’s capital was known as Santiago, and was one of the greatest cities in the Spanish empire. However, the city sits on an active tectonic zone, and in 1773 it was devastated by a series of major earthquakes, so the capital was moved to its current location, and La Antigua Guatemala is what remains — the ‘Old Guatemala’.
Cultured to our bones, we were thirsty, and it was time to move on to rum. There are good rums and bad rums. Zacapa is at the pinnacle of exceptional rums, but until my visit, I didn’t know why.
Our tasting began alongside Master Blender and ball of energy Lorena Vásquez, who is celebrating her 40th year of blending at Zacapa. We were given a tasting of different sugar cane varieties and the opportunity to distinguish between two separate brown, syrupy-looking substances. As you may know, most rums are made as a by-product of sugar production, using molasses. As a horse owner, molasses is a very familiar smell to me, but I had never tasted it in its raw form. It smells of rich treacle but tastes revolting; it is incredibly bitter, and the word ‘rough’ comes to mind. Zacapa is made using what they call a ‘virgin sugar cane syrup’, which is much less pungent but tastes delicious. There lies the most important difference: the raw materials. The yeast they use for fermentation comes from pineapples, and this creates the first spirit, a clear, tropical rum that is the foundation for what will become Zacapa.
We didn’t visit the brand’s ageing facilities this time. With our itinerary of cocktail making, mixing our own blend, and generally having a wonderful time, a combination of Zacapa espresso martinis and an altitude of 2,300m might have left a few people a little worse for wear. The altitude is important because, up in the clouds, there is moisture, and it isn’t quite so warm, giving the solera blending process a perfectly gentle development.
Let us move on to the taste. I’ve already described Lorena as a ball of energy, but seriously: to have as much enthusiasm for rum after 40 years is testament to how interesting it is. Lorena had recently visited France, to attend Vinexpo, the world’s leading wine and spirits trade fair. After no doubt a successful day spent imparting her enthusiasm on fellow attendees, Lorena took herself off to a cheese shop with a question in mind: What can I pair with Zacapa rums? We were the fortunate guinea pigs of her fun in France, and it lent a new level to the textures of the different Zacapa releases...
A combination of Zacapa espresso martinis and an altitude of 2,300m might have left us worse for wear.
Zacapa No.23 Solera Gran Reserva
This drop is a blend of rums aged between six and 23 years, and originating from the sistema solera ageing process. This is what I would choose for an Old Fashioned (in place of the whisky), as it is perhaps the driest of the range, but with so much deep, dark depth, too. On the nose, expect to be led astray with sweet notes of Werther’s Original and a sherry note from those saturated casks. The taste, however, isn’t all buttery candy and all things nice; it is more Churchillian, with notes of tobacco, leather, coffee, and the backbone of dried fruit. Very intriguing.
Like your spirits smoky? Me too, sometimes. Edición Negra indulges the dark fire of Guatemala’s volcanoes. This is where the cheese pairing brought out a whole new dimension. We tried Edición Negra, and then we tasted parmesan with a drizzle of truffle-infused honey over it, and the texture of this spirit was unbelievable. It has an oiliness to it that was made for food pairing. Sushi, Wagyu... anything rich, oily and verging on umami is a match made in heaven.
I’ve been trying to curb my sweet tooth, but I only end up returning to my former self — and much worse. Thankfully, sugar is readily available and not as expensive as, say, cocaine, or even smoking these days. We have gone off track. Zacapa XO is an exclusive blend of the Zacapa reserve rums aged between 10 and 20 years. The depth here is astonishing, and while that is commendable to think about, there is no substitute for partaking — so stop thinking, and complement it with some dark chocolate and the latest edition of The Rake.
