ALLOW me to set the scene in the tasting room: about 20 goblets arranged neatly before each of four seats. The colors of the liquids within were enticing enough, ranging from clear to beige, golden, amber and even burnt umber, if I recall my Crayola 64-pack properly. Ah, but the aromas!

Up from the glasses rose all manner of evocative scents, wafting outward and demanding our attention even before we were ready to give it. The cumulative effect was a gorgeous ensemble of butter and vanilla, banana and cinnamon and spice, smoke and brine, earth and minerals and even onion and garlic.

Together, these are the unexpectedly complex aromas of sugar cane, as revealed through the hands of expert producers of rhums agricoles, the official term for the signature rums of the French West Indies. Unlike most rums, which are made out of molasses or other byproducts of sugar production, these rums are distilled purely from fresh sugar-cane juice. While it would be wrong to assert that this method yields superior rums, rhum agricole, or agricultural rum, is decidedly different from the prevailing sort and, at its best, absolutely captivating.

It was the distinct privilege of the spirits panel recently to taste these samples, which included 11 rhums agricoles, along with four other rums made in the rhum agricole manner, and four cachaças, the Brazilian sugar-cane spirit that is a rum by another name. Florence Fabricant and I were joined for the tasting by David Wondrich, the cocktail historian and author, and Pete Wells, the Dining editor, who writes frequently about drinks.