Cheramie Rum: A Fresh Bet on Louisiana Cane Juice
“This is my harvest hair.”
Jason Zeno usually sports a shaved head, but right now he’s pointing out the growth that’s gone past his ears during Louisiana’s waning sugarcane harvest season. It’s the product of working alternating 12-hour shifts with his small crew in order to squeeze as much rum as possible out of the roughly 15-week window when the state’s sugar mills come alive.
While the vast majority of the 10+ million tons of sugarcane the mills grind will end up as table sugar, Zeno and his crew at Porchjam Distillery managed to rescue about 36,000 gallons of fresh cane juice from the Sterling Sugars mill to make the distillery’s first cane spirit—Cheramie Rum.
We’re chatting on Zoom along with fellow distillers Davey Cheramie and Matt Dumas, plus Colton Weinstein of Liba Spirits, a distiller friend who came to pitch in during the harvest.
Ah, Zoom. The distantly second best way to visit a distillery.
“We were working 24 hours,” Zeno says. “We were all working 12-hour [shifts]. It was like passing ships…these stills were running for weeks at a time.”
36,000 gallons of sugarcane juice may be a drop in the bucket to any of the state’s 13 mills, but it’s a significant amount for a craft distillery in the United States. While there are a few notable exceptions, it’s still rare to find an American distillery pumping out fresh cane juice rum at this scale. The reasons why are obvious—it’s an esoteric corner of an already misunderstood spirits category, fresh cane juice is notoriously temperamental to work with, and sugarcane only grows in a handful of regions across the country.
So why is a distillery that previously focused only on vodka suddenly going all-in on it?
“We’re either ahead of the curve and really smart, or it’s the worst fucking decision we’ve ever made,” Zeno says.
Either way, after years of working in bourbon country for Beam Suntory, he seems to be enjoying every minute of Porchjam’s newfound identity as a rum distillery. He believes this rum is the best thing he’s ever been a part of making. He declares the smell of the fermented sugarcane juice his favorite scent in spirits production. Within 15 minutes, he’s imagining a lofty future in which Louisiana has its own counterpart to the Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée (AOC) for Marrtinique Rhum Agricole.
It’s the kind of passion I hope to find when talking to an American distillery making rum for the first time. While passion isn’t a guarantee of success, it’s generally a prerequisite for making something that’s actually interesting to rum fans. Sure enough, the conversation that followed revealed exactly that.
This article contains highlights from the interview in Q&A form (condensed and edited for clarity), along with thoughts and breakdowns of the production process when necessary. All photos were provided by Jason Zeno.
I. From Vodka to Rum
While finding cane juice rum in Louisiana isn’t unheard of, you typically find it at distilleries that have made rum from day one. Three Roll Estate, a rum venture from the owners of Alma sugar mill, has been making it in Lakeland since 2016. Roulaison Distilling Co. in New Orleans released a limited batch in 2019. Sugarfield Spirits in Gonzalez has released several limited batches as well.
Porchjam, on the other hand, is known for Bolden Vodka, the flagship brand that’s consumed most of the distillery’s focus since it opened in 2017. Considering that the gulf in flavor between the two spirits is roughly comparable to the Gulf of Mexico, it’s natural to wonder what pushed the distillery to branch out in such an offbeat direction.
That’s where my conversation with Zeno began.
Why did you decide to start making rum—and, specifically, this kind of rum—in the first place?
Jason Zeno: There was always rum in the conversation because we’re in Louisiana and that makes sense. In 2018, we had a lease of operation of a distillery in Thibodaux, which is even closer to cane than we are here in New Orleans. I came in the summer of 2018 and [said] we should make raw juice rum. I’m still blown away that everyone isn’t doing this.
We still make vodka because we can only make this rum three odd months of the year. Maybe 15 weeks total. If we could make this rum all year round, we sure as hell would, but that’s not the way the cane harvest goes. But mainly we look at it now as we’re a rum distillery, first and foremost.
So why are you surprised more distilleries aren’t making cane juice rum?
I made whiskey in Kentucky. I made whiskey in Tennessee. I made brandy in Oregon. What the hell should you make in Louisiana, right? And there are a lot of rum distilleries here. I just think there’s a real opportunity to push American rum on the map in a different way [with fresh cane juice].
This isn’t a novel idea. People make rum like this in other parts of the world. I know it’s difficult. It’s a pain in the ass, to be honest. I guess it’s because of our scale that we’re able to do it. I know other people like to do it, like Andrew [Lohfeld of Roulaison Distillers] did a little batch. I’m just curious why the likes of Bayou Rum didn’t do it years before 2018 when I got here.
Was the distillery’s owner on board with making such large amounts of cane juice rum right away, or did it take some convincing?
He was very supportive of it because it’s not a common thing. You can make molasses rum anywhere, but we have this opportunity. He saw that and was very supportive.
One of the things I’ll say, when talking about [distillery founder Gordon Stewart] and how much he got behind this, is that we think [Louisiana] should have some kind of AOC. And this is lofty thinking, right? It’s not cognac. But cognac wasn’t cognac until it was cognac. Why can’t we have something like that with this raw cane juice rum made in Louisiana under a set of terms? We’ve talked about it with other distilleries, but there’s not enough people making enough volume.
Have you thought about what parameters you would want for something like that?
We’ve talked about that already in detail down to fermentation time [and] when you’re grabbing the juice. The juice shouldn’t be treated at all. There’s no lime, there’s no heat, it just comes off the mill. I think that’s important.
With fermentation parameters, I would like to set those but I could be flexible. I don’t want to dictate it. I want to talk about it in a group.
I think distillation method too. You can do [anything] but not a continuous column. Besides that, I would think really broad boundaries. I want people’s different interpretations because that’s what makes what we do great, right?
II. Mississippi Mud Water
A truckful of fresh sugarcane juice straight from the mill.
Wanting to make cane juice rum is one thing—but unless you’re able to plant, harvest, and crush sugarcane right outside your distillery—getting the juice is another. Fresh sugarcane juice can begin developing off flavors within hours, so you need a fast way to get it to your distillery and under control. This became even more of a challenge when Porchjam decided not to operate at the distillery in Thibodaux, which was much closer to Louisiana’s sugar mills than the company’s New Orleans distillery.
The solution came in unexpected form—a 5,500-gallon ISO tank Porchjam acquired during the pandemic to store ethanol for sanitizer production. Why not pump it full of raw sugarcane juice at the mill and truck it back to New Orleans?
First, they had to find a mill willing to give up the juice.
How did you figure out sourcing?
Jason Zeno: Davey and I called close to 13 different mills. I told them, “I want you to mill it, and then I want the juice immediately,” and they talked to us like we were crazy. The first place that we got it was like, “You sure you want this? It looks like Mississippi mud water.” I said that’s absolutely what we want. For proof of concept, we got 1,000 gallons to see if we could ferment and distill it. That was in 2018.
I called them when I wanted to [start getting regular batches], and they said it was just a one-time thing. But Davey’s last name is Cheramie, which is a pretty common name here, and I really believe when he talked to Sterling they were like oh your name’s Cheramie so you’re from around these parts! Like, Zeno, who the hell is that guy?
They didn’t know how to price it at first, but they worked with us. Their main thing is they make sugar that gets put on a barge that goes to Domino and gets refined. That’s what they do. So we walked through their process and picked out where [we want the juice], because I don’t want any kind of treatment. As soon as it’s milled, that’s what I want. Our truck pulls right in and they fill it up.
Where does the mill source their cane? Is it from a variety of sources?
Davey Cheramie: Yes, they get seven different varieties of cane from three different parishes.
Within each of those parishes, are they sourcing it from multiple farms?
Davey Cheramie: Yeah, I think it’s 30 something farmers they have. It’s a big operation.
Matt Dumas: The mill actually owns land and grows their own sugarcane as well.
Jason Zeno: Around March or April I think we’re going to go out to some of the farmers [with] a case of rum and be like, we want you to know this is what happened to some of your cane.
Sugarcane ready for milling at Sterling Sugars.
Where is the mill and how long does it take you to get back to the distillery? Walk me through the process a bit.
Jason Zeno: Sterling is in Franklin, Louisiana. It’s beautiful land. You’re driving through all this cane and the bayou there, and then the smell of it is [amazing]. I really feel like I’m in the right place. I fell in love. They’re a little under two hours away so [the juice] is fermenting in the truck by the time it’s coming back here. We actually make a little [yeast] starter that’s in the truck so it hits immediately.
So the tank has yeast in it already?
Correct. Even if I don’t do that, it’s going to ferment. I like to say every fermentation is a co-fermentation anyway. There’s a dominant yeast, [but it’s not the only one]. So we are fermenting as close to our terms as possible. There’s a microbiological flora that is very specific—if you want to use the word terroir you could—and I feel it’s very important. I wouldn’t want to ever completely eliminate that, and I don’t have the ability to do that unless I were to use cane syrup.
So as soon as the cane is milled, it hits our yeast. That works out poorly sometimes too because the first truck we got, the driver blew a tire. So our truck was sitting on the side of the road in 95 degree heat fermenting like a madman. It was definitely a learning curve.
The drive from Sterling to Porchjam goes through the heart of Louisiana’s cane-growing country.
I feel like I’ve heard other producers talk about wanting to avoid having dirt and other stuff in the juice. Is that an eye of the beholder kind of thing?
I’m sure some producers feel that way. I think in order for me to do that, I would lose some of the integrity of being so close to the cane. If I had some kind of awesome Alfa Laval decanter centrifuge maybe I would do that. But most of the solids in [the juice] aren’t necessarily mud. It’s the [cane] fibers.
I’m confident that we are able to control enough of it to make a product that we want. If I [thought] it was a little too esoteric, a little too off the wall, maybe then I’d figure out some kind of decanting process. But you’re on such a strict time limit. I could go further down in the process at the mill, but they add lime and they do other things to process the juice.
III. The Three Expressions of Cheramie: Blanc, New Make, Queen’s Share
Zeno and crew currently make three different rums that all start with the same process—an approximately 36-hour fermentation that kicks into higher gear as soon as the truck arrives. Their first step is taking pH and brix readings on the juice to determine how much nutrient to add. This helps with things like nitrogen deficiency (an essential ingredient of fermentation). From there, they pump the juice into closed top fermenters jacketed with glycol to keep the temperature from rising above 85°F.
Fermentation may start in the truck, but it is tightly controlled by the time the juice gets into the fermenters.
“We like to do a clean, controlled fermentation just because the raw material is so out there already for a normal rum drinker,” said Cheramie. “You know, they taste most Hampdens and they’re like, ‘Oh, this is a little too funky.’ So the cleaner for us the better because it still brings along those characteristics that are in the cane.”
Cheramie rum fermentation in action.
What happens next is a lesson in the impact distillation choices can have on a spirit. Cheramie Blanc—which serves as the distillery’s flagship unaged offering—goes through a single pot still distillation followed by a short column distillation with a nifty little device called a dephlegmator running. The dephlegmator essentially gives a distiller more control over which molecules can and can’t pass through into the final distillate. How does that impact the spirit? I’ll lean on the expertise of Maggie Campbell (Estate Rum Manager at Mount Gay), who described it as follows in her presentation Still Design and Rum Style:
“A dephlegmator run at full speed can make a really light, delicate spirit. A dephlegmator run at low speed can make a really rich spirit.”
Cheramie Blanc, right at home in a daiquiri.
The dephlegmator is the only distillation difference between the designed-to-be-crowd-pleasing blanc and the distillery’s second type of rum, which they call new make. For new make, the dephlegmator isn’t used at all. You only need to take a quick whiff of each rum to realize the difference this makes. New make packs much more of a vegetal cane juice wallop than the softer, sweeter blanc. The extra oomph is there for a reason—they wanted a version of the rum that could stand up to a barrel. New make is built for aging.
While new make goes straight into 53-gallon barrels to age for a to-be-determined amount of time, blanc rests in stainless steel for a minimum of three months before bottling.
Porchjam’s third and final rum is their most scarce—a queen’s share rum. For those unfamiliar, queen’s share rums are made by collecting portions of the tails cuts from multiple batches and then redistilling them. Cheramie queen’s share is made with tails from both blanc and new make batches, resulting in somewhat of a happy medium between the two styles (to my taste, anyway). Like new make, it’s distilled without using the dephlegmator. While their queen’s share is primarily intended for aging (in 2020, they filled 10 barrels), they’ve set aside a portion of this year’s batches to release unaged.
For the true fiends out there, Zeno also shared the ABV of each rum coming off the still:
Blanc: Ranges from about 178 to 160. The composite is usually around 170.
New make: Ranges from the low 170s all the way down to 120. The composite is roughly 155. They proof it down over a couple months and barrel it in the 110-120 range.
Queen’s share: Same as the blanc. It’s typically barreled at the same proof as the new make.
IV. Aging and the Future
You never quite know what you’re going to get from a new rum producer’s aging program. Will they use smaller barrels? Will they throw oak chips or staves in with the rum? Will they use new American oak to amp up the intensity of flavors from the wood? Will they bottle after a few months to get something out quickly?
There isn’t necessarily a right or wrong approach, but it’s less common to find a craft distillery with the capital and patience to use exclusively 53-gallon barrels from day one. It’s even rarer to find one that does what Porchjam is planning to do once the rum comes out of the barrels.
What are your plans for aging?
Jason Zeno: So, I’m not a huge fan of American oak. I’m definitely not a fan of new American oak.
In rum, or just in general?
In general. It might be because I worked in American whiskey for so long. And I still drink Old Granddad Bottled in Bond all the time because it’s a great product at a great price and I’m cheap. But [American oak] is a little bit of a sledgehammer sometimes—especially new American oak.
I say that…but all of our barrels right now are ex Jim Beam, Old Granddad, and Knob Creek. A lot of that is because I called a procurement guy I used to work with and got a good price. They’re good barrels [and] I know what was in them. Ultimately, I wanted all French oak, but it’s more expensive, I didn’t have that much control of those barrels, and I didn’t know that much about them.
I do plan on introducing some French oak barrels, but more importantly, we’re going to introduce French oak mixing vats. Our goal is [what] I call a pseudo solera. The vats will fit about 25 barrels or so. At one year [of aging], we’ll dump 25 barrels in, we’ll bottle some one-year, and we’ll let the rest of it sit. Then at two years, we plan on getting another vat for two-year spirit. So that first vat, nothing younger than one year ever goes in. The second vat, nothing younger than two years goes in it. And the next vat, nothing younger than three years will go in it.
Ultimately, you sit those in there for another year so you have two-year, three-year, and four-year spirit. And I’ll be honest with you, where we are in New Orleans, the relative humidity and temperature, I don’t think much more than four years is needed. Because we love the flavor of the cane.
How many barrels do you have filled right now?
Davey Cheramie: Eighty one. Ten are queen’s share, and the rest new make.
What does everything look like long term? Do you want to continue scaling up?
Jason Zeno: I don't want to do something that I can't do at a pretty large scale. We have one of, if not the biggest facilities in the state. I think I can get to like five or six trucks a week. For perspective, the first harvest, which I call the proof of concept, was about 84,000 gallons of raw cane juice. This year I tried to do 30 trucks [per harvest] pace, and next year I want to do 45 trucks. [The mill] said that until we're doing 30 trucks a day we're not going to bother them. So I was like, well, that's my goal.
What about distribution? Where can people find you right now and what are your plans for the near future?
Currently Louisiana only, but we are working on expanding distribution. We are also working on scenarios with LibDib and Seelbach’s to get our rum in people’s hands. My secret slogan for the rum is “rum for the people.” So I need to get it in people’s hands.