Toby Keith Mezcal Tequila Worms Bug Government
Bottles of Zignum silver and reposado mescal. Made from green agave, Zignum Mezcal uses steam rather than wood to roast their agave plants, resulting in a smoother, less smoky mezcal. Source: Zignum Mezcal via Bloomberg
Cornelio Perez, president of a group called Tradicionales de los Pueblos de Mexico. Perez tests alcohol levels of artisanal mezcals by blowing into wooden cups. Photographer: Max Jacobson/Patrona via Bloomberg
Wooden Tasting Cups
Max Jacobson/Patrona via Bloomberg
Artisanal mezcal producers taste their distilled spirits in carved wooden cups, shown here at Patrona cantina and restaurant in Mexico City.
Artisanal mezcal producers taste their distilled spirits in carved wooden cups, shown here at Patrona cantina and restaurant in Mexico City. Photographer: Max Jacobson/Patrona via Bloomberg
Mezcal at Patrona
Max Jacobson/Patrona via Bloomberg
Mezcal bottles at Patrona in Mexico City. Small-production mezcals from Oaxaca are poured at the restaurant and cantina.
Mezcal bottles at Patrona in Mexico City. Small-production mezcals from Oaxaca are poured at the restaurant and cantina. Photographer: Max Jacobson/Patrona via Bloomberg
What I used to know about mezcal —
tequila’s brawnier brother — could have fit into a shot glass.
That was before a tasting in Mexico City with Cornelio
Perez, president of a group called Mezcales Tradicionales de los
Pueblos de Mexico, and Ricardo Pandal, owner of a year-old
mezcal cantina and restaurant named Patrona. I now know that
most of what I knew was wrong.
Perez and Pandal demolished the hype about mezcal that
importers have been pushing in the spirit’s expanding market in
the U.S. and China, not least the assertion that mezcal’s
identifying mark is the smokiness acquired by cooking the maguey
plant (a form of agave) in earth-covered pit ovens.
“Those smoky mezcals they sell in the U.S. are not very
good,” said Pandal. “They are made that way just to create a
market different from tequila’s. They want people to think that
mezcal is a rougher, more macho drink than tequila, which is
made only from the blue agave plant.”
Perez, who was busy estimating the alcohol level by an
ancient method of blowing into a straw pipe to create bubbles in
cups of mezcal, chimed in: “Ha! There are hundreds of species
of agave, and the blue agave is one of the worst! Blue agave has
been cloned so much it is genetically weak, so the plants are
given chemicals and pesticides to keep them healthy, which helps
to hurry along their maturation.”
Spanish Stills
Until the 19th century there was no difference between
tequila and mezcal, other than the fact that the former acquired
its name from being made around the town of Tequila, said Perez.
Pre-Columbian Mexicans made a fermented, milky maguey juice they
called pulque. When the Spanish arrived, they taught them the
distillation process to make mezcal.
“Tequila’s success is all due to those Hollywood western
movies,” said Perez. “Mezcal used to be made in nearly every
state in Mexico.”
While 21 states still make the drink, most comes from
around the southern city of Oaxaca. The government regulates the
hundreds of artisanal mezcals in order to preserve their
traditional taste, said Perez.
To be artisanal, mezcal must be 100 percent agave, although
the government allows other sugars to be added to both mezcal
and tequila. Some mezcals are triple distilled with fruit and
nuts, even infused with chicken. Some are made by single farmers
on little plots of land.
Many have about 45 percent alcohol, and several I sampled
that day ran well over 50 percent.
Scotch and Grappa
Of the half-dozen artisanal mezcals I tasted, only one,
made by Rogelio Martinez from a wild maguey called tobala, was
smoky in aroma and taste, somewhat like a single-malt Scotch
from Islay. Another from the Oaxacan town of Yojana, made by
Jose Garcia (55 percent alcohol), used two types of maguey and
was very powerful but not smoky at all, more like grappa.
Mezcal Zapotitlan (50.7 percent) from Jalisco state was
said to be 100 percent organic, distilled twice, from a farm
that grows 14 different magueys and produces only 80 liters a
year. A bottle of Alipus was very smooth, with just a touch of
sweetness. I also tasted a Mexican moonshine called Michoacan
that is made in seven states. It had a little natural pulque
added that gave it a very fruity, slightly soapy flavor.
Back in the U.S., I spoke with master sommelier Richard
Betts, who, with entrepreneur and art collector Dennis Scholl
and New York wine seller Charles Bieler, imports Sombra mezcal
($30-$35), made from green espadin agave grown 8,000 feet up in
the Oaxacan hills.
Making Music
“We’re fanatical about every step in the process, and
smoke is but one part of that,” Betts told me in a phone
interview from Boulder, Colorado. “It’s like the bass in an
orchestra. If it’s played too loud, it runs over all the other
music.”
Betts uses oak wood from the surrounding hillsides for
roasting the agave, to give a milder smokiness. He said of the
50 or so mezcals imported into the U.S., only a half dozen are
of artisanal quality.
Another premium import, Zignum mezcal, introduced last
December at the Food Network South Beach Wine Food Festival,
is also made from the green espadin agave, in silver ($26),
reposado ($29) and anejo ($55) styles. Steam cooking rather than
roasting eliminates the smoky flavor. These mezcals are silky,
not harsh, and the anejo is a revelation of complexity.
And what about the worm (actually an insect larva) found in
about half of mezcal bottles?
Bug Ban
“If it’s a brand with a bug in it, it’s purely a
gimmick,” said Betts. There is no history of mezcals containing
the larva beyond the promotional effect, he said. The Mexican
government is trying to get rid of the worm in an effort to
upgrade mezcal’s image.
Still, a new entry, Wild Shot ($55), complete with worm and
a touch of smoke, is supported and promoted by country music
star Toby Keith, whose hits include “Big Ol’ Truck” and “Get
Drunk and Be Somebody.”
“It’s not there for the looks,” said Keith. “It is
there to be eaten. It is believed that the worm will bring
wondrous experiences and every individual’s will be different.”
Shucks, and just one worm to a bottle!
(John Mariani writes on wine for Bloomberg News. The
opinions expressed are his own.)
To contact the writer of this column:
John Mariani at john@johnmariani.com.
To contact the editor responsible for this column:
Manuela Hoelterhoff in New York at
mhoelterhoff@bloomberg.net.
