Ti' Punch; or, a Magnificent Martinique Masterpiece
There’s an old adage that tells us that “less is more.” Marie Kondo would tell us to let go of that which does not “spark joy.”
You know what sparks joy with me? Rum, lime, and sugar. I’m a simple man.
You may think that we’re about to revisit the daiquiri, and while you’re wrong, you’re not too far off. This is not the broader, shaken drink following the sour template that is the daiquiri; this is a much more specific drink, more along the lines of an old-fashioned. This is the national drink of Martinique and a cocktail wholly unique to that lovely island. This is… a Ti’ Punch.
I…. I expected a drumroll, or a fanfare. Fireworks. Something. No? Fine, moving on.
As is my wont, I'll spend the next several paragraphs bloviating about the history of the Ti' Punch and why it's so unique to Martinique (hah!). Given that this is a drink that is more about technique, I've created individual sections for the general method for creating a Ti' Punch and my preferred recipe:
However, if you're interested in the history, read on, MacDuff!
Is it wrong that I think the kraken glass only makes it more appropriate to Caribbean drinks?
The History of Martinique
The island of Martinique is part of what is known as the Lesser Antilles; that is, the smaller islands of the Caribbean, which form sort of the eastern border of the Caribbean sea. Martinique is one of the volcanic islands that is known (appropriately) as the Lesser Antilles Volcanic Arc, a result of the South American tectonic plate sliding underneath the Caribbean plate. Today, the island features a number of extinct volcanoes and one still active: Mount Pelée. Long before Europeans landed in the Caribbean, circa 100 CE, the island of Martinique was probably inhabited by a group of people originally from Central/South America known as Arawaks. A couple of hundred years later, Mount Pelée erupted, practically wiping out the island’s population. It would be another hundred years, circa 400 CE, before the Arawaks arrived once again and repopulated the island. In circa 600 CE, another group of South American natives, known as the Caribs, arrived and conquered the island from the Arwaks. It was these Island Caribs (distinct from the Mainland Caribs of Central/South America) who inhabited the island when Christopher Columbus first landed on the island on 1502. Fortunately for the natives, the Spaniards found little of interest and moved on to the next island.
In 1635, the French landed in the region that became known as St. Pierre, in the northwest of the island. They began establishing forts and killing and enslaving the natives. By the 1660s, the French had killed or driven back most of the native Caribs, controlling the vast majority of Martinique, save for a peninsula on the leeward side of the island (eastern, if you’re not a sailor).
The French began cultivating primarily sugar cane on Martinique, as it was abundant and extremely valuable to the Europeans. By 1685, King Louis XIV would instate “Le Code Noir” (the Black Law, in case you needed the translation) to legalize and systematize the removal and enslavement of Africans for the purposes of labor in the Caribbean. This would continue until 1848, after political pressure and numerous slave rebellions would force the French government to end slavery in the so-called West Indies.
Out of interest (and not at all relating to the history of this drink), Mount Pelée has erupted many more times since it wiped out the Arawaks in the third century CE. Notably, in May of 1902, Mount Pelée erupted and destroyed the entirety of St. Pierre, the original landing point and capital of French Martinique; more than 30,000 perished. The only person to have survived the eruption, reportedly, did so because of the thick walls of his prison cells. The capital moved shortly thereafter to Fort-de-France, where it remains today.
Get learnt!
Rhum Agricole: What is It?
Now, I’m sure this has all been fascinating, but what does it have to do with the Ti’ Punch? Well, the answer, as with most things, comes down to politics and international conflict.
In the early 19th century, Franz Karl Achard succeeded in breeding the white beet into a so-called “sugar beet,” which was about 5-6% sucrose when dried. This was an astonishing revelation to Europe, who had been relying in the import of sugar cane for years. Napoleon (yes, that Napoleon) in particular was thrilled by this, in particular because of some pressure from his political opponents. Starting in 1791, self-liberates slaves in Haiti began a campaign for independence, which ended successfully in 1804. This was (and is) the only slave revolt in history that ended in the abolition of slavery and a government made predominately of non-whites. In addition to challenging European notions of white supremacy (and black inferiority), it also meant a huge decrease in French imports of sugar cane — though nowhere near as important in the scope of history, this point is more germaine to the creation of rhum agricole. In 1806, as part of the ongoing Napoleonic Wars, the British Royal Navy had blockaded France’s ports along the English Channel, drastically reducing their ability to import goods such as sugar cane. Encouraged by Achard’s findings, in 1811, Napoleon appropriated a sum of one million francs (conversions get messy going that far back, but based on some historical data, I’d estimate $110M to $150M modern USD) to set up so-called “sugar schools,” to teach refiners how to make pure sugar from sugar beets, and to subsidize farmers planting sugar beets. He also placed an effective ban on sugar imports from the Caribbean until 1813.
The result of this in places like Martinique was that sugar cane growers had nothing they could do with all of this sugar cane they’d grown. There were refineries on the island, and distilleries to take the waste molasses and turn it into rum, but there was no call for refined sugar. Then, a cunning idea: why not take the sugar cane straight to the distillery? After all, there was always a call for rum in the surrounding mainlands, so why not create something new for which there was always a market? Thus, rhum agricole was born.
Yes, rhum agricole is rum that is distilled from whole sugar cane juice, rather than the waste product that is molasses. This gives it a distinct flavor, not as sweet and heavy as traditional rum. Rhum agricole is brighter, grassier, more herbaceous. The flavor changes based on how it’s distilled and aged (of course), but it is distinct to the island of Martinique. There are comparable products from other islands (such as the rhum barbancourt of Haiti), but only Martinique produces rhum agricole.
This is the most serious representation I have of the traditional ingredients of a Ti’ Punch.
The Ti’ Punch Proper
As whole sugar cane rums are not unique to Martinique (hah!) (though — rhum agricole is), the Ti’ Punch is not only found in Martinique.
The name “Ti’ Punch” comes from the pidgin from “petit punch” or “small punch.” This cocktail can be found in most of the French-speaking Caribbean islands, including Haiti and French Guyana. The thing that makes it uniquely a Ti’ Punch, however, is the rhum agricole. You see, Haiti has the rhum barbancourt — also a whole sugar-cane rum, but with different characteristics from the terroir of the island; and Guyana has the demerara rum, a rich, fruity rum made from the unprocessed sugar unique to the island. The finest sugar cane in Guyana comes from the area surrounding the Demerara River, and this sugar is allowed to dry and crystallize with minimal processing, creating a rich, fruity, molassesy sugar which you may know as “demerara” or “turbinado” sugar. When distilled, it creates a thick, sweet, fruity rum known as demerara rum. So, you can see, Martinique’s take on rhum is unique among its sister islands.
While the sweetener of Ti’ Punch can vary, the most traditional is sugar cane syrup — this is not simple sugar syrup, but rather more akin to maple syrup. The syrup is the result of taking whole sugar cane juice and reducing it in huge vats until it forms a caramel-colored syrup with a mild, grassy flavor (sugar cane is, after all, technically a kind of grass). You can use whatever syrup or sugar you want in this drink, but if you want to be authentic, you should source cane syrup (easily found on Amazon).
As for lime — well, the Persian lime was abundant in the Caribbean and Central America by this time, thanks to the influence of foreign settlers. The acid and brightness of citrus is the natural foil to the sweetness of the drink. As with the daiquiri of Cuba or the caipirinha of Brazil, it’s hard to beat the combo of lime, rum, and sugar.
Unlike other expressions, however, in the Ti’ Punch, you’re really not looking for a lot of lime juice. The wild, vegetal flavors from both the rhum agricole and sugar cane syrup should help tame the sweetness enough that you don’t need a ton of acid. Instead, it is more traditional to cut a small coin from the side of the lime, mostly peel and pith, and squeeze it over the drink; what you want is to express the oils from the peel of the lime, while providing just enough sour and bitter from the fruit and the pith respectively to balance the sweetness. In Martinique, the most traditional preparation would be called chacun prépare sa propre mort (“each prepares their own death). That is to say, you would be served a glass, some rum, some limes, and some sugar, and you may prepare the drink to your preference.
Furthermore, this drink far predates any kind of ice trade in the Caribbean, and as such is typically served neat. You may prepare it this way, of course (as have I, for the purposes of this post). To be honest though, when I make it at home, I put it on a big rock. I like my drinks cold, and I don’t feel I have to apologize for that.
Thirsty yet?
The Method
Here’s the basic way to construct a Ti’ Punch:
Add an amount of sweetener (traditionally sugar cane syrup) to your preference; a good eyeball would be about a barspoon (1/2 tsp) per ounce of base liquor you intend to use.
Add an appropriate amount of rhum agricole (brands include Rhum Neisson, Rhum JM, and Rhum Clement). White (or blanc) rhum agricole is traditional, though you may use aged if you prefer. Again, you would typically want 1 oz. per 1/4 to 1/2 tsp., but adjust per your preference (remember, cold reduces your perception of sweetness, so consider using more sweetener if you’re going to chill the drink).
If you’re going to ice your Ti’ Punch, you should do so now. You can use whatever ice you prefer: use large rock ice if you want a more old-fashioned preparation, or cube or crushed ice if you want it to be even colder.
Cut an amount of lime that you deem appropriate and squeeze it over the drink. Ideally, you want to cut more peel than fruit from the lime, because what you’re really after are the lime oils. Squeeze it over the drink, and maybe give it a tentative stir.
Drink immediately.
This drink is really more about method than recipe, but I’ll give you my preferred preparation below.
Eddie's Preferred Ti' Punch
3 oz. rhum agricole blanc (Rhum Neisson or Rhum JM preferred)
1/4 oz. sugar cane syrup
Large strip of lime peel
Add rhum agircole and sugar cane syrup to a rocks glass. Stir to combine.
Add ice (not pictured), and stir to chill.
Squeeze lime peel (and any associated juice) over drink. Stir once, and garnish with same lime peel.
That’s it. Finally, you have a really bright, vibrant, and exciting Caribbean cocktail to try. Enjoy this island-themed old-fashioned variant, and let us know what you’re looking forward to next in the comments below!
I actually needed to mix one of these after writing about it for so long. It’s that good.
