What Time Does With a Good Mistake

There's no question the story matters - a fire in 2007, barrels misplaced, left to age far longer than intended. But the real point is this: the rum didn't just survive. It improved. The extra years in barrel gave it shape. Drier edges. Real weight. What could've been written off as lost inventory turned into one of the most polished, quietly confident rums in the entire Chairman's range.

Forgotten Cask is a blend of pot and column still rums, just like the core Chairman's, but with extended ageing - 6 to 11 years in ex-bourbon casks under tropical heat. That's a meaningful stretch in Saint Lucia's climate, where rum ages fast and the casks pull deep. There's no sugar added. No finish layered on top. Just what came out of the wood, bottled with restraint.

The nose gives it away immediately. This isn't young. Toffee, dried banana, baked fig, pipe tobacco, and creme caramel rise first, then give way to worn oak, citrus peel, and nutmeg. You get a lot of the same cues as you would from well-matured bourbon - not because it's mimicking one, but because it's had the same kind of patient relationship with the barrel.

On the palate, it's rounded but dry - no excess sweetness. You'll find cocoa nibs, spiced wood, orange oil, clove, and leather. The texture is soft, but the flavours are taut, held in place by tannin and heat. It doesn't coast. It travels. There's molasses in the background, but it never dominates. This rum is about development - how all the parts speak after time has done its work.

The finish is where the age really shows. It's slow, dry, warm - tobacco and toasted oak, a trace of dark fruit, a final flicker of baking spice. It fades with dignity, not drama.

This is a sipping rum, no question. It doesn't need to be dressed up, but it can take a little attention - a few drops of water, a clean cube of ice. In the right cocktail? It's brilliant. Think spirit-forward: a rum Old Fashioned, a Boulevardier riff. Anything that benefits from wood and weight.

Forgotten Cask doesn't try to dazzle. It earns its place quietly. It's the kind of bottle you pour when you've already had the crowd-pleasers, when you want something with patience behind it. It's for people who want to taste age without flash - who appreciate structure, not just smoothness.

And while it may have started as an accident, it's stayed on the shelf for good reason: it's one of the best arguments for what happens when rum is simply left alone to become what it wants to be.