We opened the Zaya at the Lounge and taste-tested it with the staff on hand, both those who were working hard and those who had stopped in to laze about and sip drinks, as so many of our staff are wont to do. Some of our staff gave this dark, Trinidad-bottled rum a thumbs up (sweet - caramelly - rich - full of flavor) and others weren't so excited about it for the same reasons. I made it into a mojito, with similar results. Love the flavor, too much flavor. Zaya is not your standard wimpy rum.
Then we forgot about it. The bottle sat on my desk with a sticky note that read "do not drink" which if there was space would have read "do not drink until I write a blog about it which I will soon and it's the least I can do since it was a freebie."
Fast forward to this week. Leah has a toothache. She's up every night at 3am or 4am to take Advil and while she's up she reads blogs, obsesses about whether or not the pulp in her tooth is dying permanently or if her nerve is just having a nervous breakdown, and she actually answers some emails so perhaps it's good use of her time though not the best timing. During the day she seeks out nips of hard liquor to dull the pain when she thinks no one is looking. I know, I know, she should see the dentist. She did. Twice. And it traumatized her and left her wondering if the poking, prodding and drilling further irritated the pulp (i.e. tooth innards), so now she is waiting, hoping to wake up one morning and find the pain simply missing.
Today, she found my bottle of Zaya Rum, stuck the "do not drink" sticky note to the bar, and pronounced the bottle her salvation. "Where did this stuff come from?" she asked me, sipping it straight, clearly not remembering our previous tasting in August. "This is good shit. Mmmm. Sweet explosion in my mouth. Kind of smoky, peaty, and full of molasses. I swear my tooth is feeling better."
So there you have it, folks. Zaya tastes great, and it cures toothaches (at least for a few hours).