The Case for Rum When It’s Cold Out

Rum has a summer PR problem.

Somewhere along the way, rum got assigned one job: show up in a plastic cup when it’s 92 degrees out and someone’s playing Jimmy Buffett a little too confidently. If you’re not a frozen-drink person, it’s easy to conclude you “don’t like rum” and move on.

I used to be in that camp. Not because I’d done a serious, scientific rum study. Because most of what people get served as “rum” is either mixed into something that tastes like vacation candy, or it’s a bottle that’s mostly marketing and not much else. So of course it’s not for you. That’s not a rum verdict. That’s a bad product verdict.

Here’s the thing: winter is actually when rum makes sense.

When it’s cold out, people naturally drink simpler. Neat. One cube. Something warm. You stop hiding behind a blender and start paying attention. That’s when you realize rum isn’t automatically sweet. Some rums are sweet. Some are dry. Some are all spice and oak and finish. The base can be different, the aging can be different, the style can be different. “Rum” is a category, not a flavor.

The “rum is sweet” belief is usually just a shortcut from one experience. It’s like trying one sandwich in 2009 and deciding you don’t like sandwiches. It’s not even a hot take. It’s just incomplete information.

What makes rum work in winter is the barrel. Oak-aged rum brings the same kind of comfort notes people chase in colder months — vanilla, warm spice, that toasty depth you get from time in wood. It can feel round and soft on the edges without being sugary. And because those flavors are already there, you don’t need to pile on extra stuff to make it interesting.

This is also why rum is great in warm drinks. Not because it’s “tropical,” but because it behaves beautifully with heat, citrus, spice, and honey. A hot toddy is the easiest example. You don’t need a recipe to understand the logic: something warm, a little bright, a little soothing, and a spirit that doesn’t fight the format.

Rum is also underrated as a winter sipper. After dinner, most people reach for whiskey or cognac out of habit. A well-made aged rum lives in that same lane, sometimes with a slightly smoother feel, and it doesn’t demand your whole palate the way peaty or high-rye options can. It’s the kind of pour you can actually finish while you’re talking.

And honestly, winter is when you can taste the difference between a rum that’s real and one that’s just loud. You’re not dealing with crushed ice, fruit juice, and a dozen distractions. You’re just tasting the spirit. That’s where quality shows up.

So if you’ve written off rum because you don’t like sweet drinks, or because “rum” means frozen cocktails in your head, winter is the best time to revisit the category. Start simple. Treat it like you’d treat a bourbon or a scotch — something you sip, not something you hide. The right bottle will make the case for itself.

And if it ends up in a hot toddy on a cold night, that’s not a compromise. That’s rum doing what it does best.