Review: Rumple Minze Cinnamint Whiskey

There are probably five bottles that pop into your head the second someone asks which liquor brands get a bad rap. Are those bad raps always warranted? Or is it possible your hatred of a certain liqueur, one that starts with Jager and ends with meister, is less about the product and more about that one fateful Tuesday night in college? Maybe the product is genuinely terrible. Maybe you just can’t handle your shots. Taste is subjective, and honestly, so is regret.

Over the past decade, a certain cinnamon-flavored whiskey spirit — you know the one — has become wildly popular while simultaneously becoming the most complained-about bottle behind every bar. And here’s my theory: The hate is basically free advertising. It’s one of those products people love to hate and hate to love, and somehow that contradiction just keeps the sales rolling.

Let’s go back to the ’80s and ’90s for a minute — yes, the 1900s, as the kids say. A certain thick, syrupy cinnamon liqueur with gold flakes floating around in it was all the rage, gifting an entire generation with deeply unfortunate taste memories. The aforementioned meister was an equally beloved shot of choice, served ice cold. And then there was Rumple Minze. I poured my fair share as a young bartender and drank my fair share as a college student, and I will say no more about that. Safe to say, I had mentally retired this bottle for life, until the brand came knocking with something new. There is now a Rumple Minze Cinnamint Whiskey. Yes. The classic mint of Rumple Minze schnapps, plus cinnamon. Take a wild guess at which loyal fanbase they’re trying to court.

After a little back and forth with the Drinkhacker team, I volunteered as tribute. There were a few reasons behind this brave and possibly misguided decision. For one, I spent several years living in Europe in my twenties, a time of deep personal discovery and significantly less grumpiness, thank goodness. During those travels, I was exposed to a lot of spirits that we Americans just absolutely abuse. Many of the liqueurs we dump into questionable, puke-worthy cocktails are actually quite lovely when served the way they were intended. I won’t be extending that grace to the gold-flake stuff, but plenty of others surprised me. When you enjoy them in their historic context, they’re genuinely good. So maybe — just maybe — Rumple Minze deserves the same benefit of the doubt. It had been so long since I’d touched the bottle that I figured I owed it a fair shot. Literally.

One last disclaimer before we get into it: I am genuinely a fan of good, quality flavored whiskey. When it’s made with real ingredients and actually tastes like something intentional, it’s a great entry point for new whiskey drinkers and a solid shortcut for the rest of us who don’t always feel like building an Old Fashioned from scratch. I’m not a snob about it. I just have standards.

Rumple Minze Cinnamint Whiskey Review

This is a 100-proof spirit, billed as whiskey and made with natural flavors, per the brand. That’s actually a notable leg up on most of the major competition, which tends to hover around 70 proof while charging the same price. More alcohol, natural flavors. Hey, points for effort.

On the nose, it smells like mint toothpaste. Not a subtle mint, not a refreshing mint, but toothpaste. Which is unfortunate, because I couldn’t detect any of the promised cinnamon in the aroma whatsoever. On the palate, there’s a solid bite to it, and the cinnamon does show up eventually, but it has clearly lost the battle to the mint. The finish lingers, but it takes a turn toward something more chemical and artificial before it’s done. I get that the whole point was to keep Rumple Minze’s signature peppermint DNA intact, but the cinnamon needs to be louder if you want to put “cinna” in the name. A lot louder. I just couldn’t get past the toothpaste. I kept waiting to spit and rinse.

Does it make a good shot? Probably. I personally don’t understand the logic of shooting something you don’t enjoy tasting, but I also understand that’s basically a rite of passage for young drinkers and a nostalgia trip for those of us who should know better by now. For this particular drinker, it just doesn’t do it. But, and I mean this sincerely, if Rumple Minze is your bottle, if it’s your bartender’s handshake or your go-to shot of choice, you should absolutely grab a bottle of Cinnamint and give it a go. There’s a real chance you’ll like it more than the original. And hey, that’s a bar worth clearing.

100 proof.

C- / $20