Looking back at the last time the spirits panel tasted mezcal, I was shocked to realize that almost a decade had passed. The flavors and the sense of discovery we experienced still seemed so fresh.
Yet so much has changed since that tasting in 2010. Back then, mezcal was described as “the next big thing.” It finally arrived, and with such an impact that the trend authorities over at New York magazine recently deemed it passé, at least as a cocktail ingredient.
From the consumer’s view, the world of mezcal in 2020 is radically different from that of 10 years ago. Del Maguey, which 25 years ago pioneered the discovery and marketing in the United States of small-production, geographically specific bottles, is still going strong, though its visionary founder, Ron Cooper, sold a controlling interest in the brand to the beverage giant Pernod Ricard in 2017.
Rather than packaging his discoveries as a luxury brand or with celebrity tie-ins in the fashion of tequila, mezcal’s agave cousin, Mr. Cooper emphasized the cultural significance of mezcal, highlighting its ability — through traditional, laborious methods of production — to transmit the character of a place and a people.
But where 10 years ago, Del Maguey alone seemed to be shining a light on the enormous potential and complexity of mezcal, now more than a few entrepreneurs, no doubt inspired by Mr. Cooper’s example, have entered the artisanal mezcal business.
While “artisanal” has become a marketing buzzword, it seems to mean something more with mezcal. Entrepreneurs with dollar signs in their eyes have gotten into the act, no surprise, but the best and most interesting bottles are still the most rustic and distinctive, rather than the most polished.
In my own experience, the best mezcal I’ve ever had was a treat in a restaurant where I happened to know the chef. Her Oaxacan sous-chef had brought back a couple of bottles made by his uncle. No brand, no labels, just handmade for home consumption, and absolutely wonderful.
Nowadays, dozens of small-production bottles are available, each highlighting the styles of small mezcaleros, or mezcal makers, local production techniques and the various sorts of agaves that are permitted to be used in mezcal production.
Unlike tequila, which can be produced only from the blue agave in the state of Jalisco and a few surrounding areas, mezcal can legally be made in 10 Mexican states with any sort of agave.
Practically speaking, though, most mezcal comes from Oaxaca, and most of the time it’s made from the espadín agave. Yet it’s not rare to find mezcals made of other sorts of agaves with names like barril, jabalí, cuishe, tepeztate and tobalá.
While some bigger mezcal brands exist, most are still small-scale, with tiny outputs. Tequila production is largely industrialized, at least for the brands available in the United States, but mezcal is still the equivalent of homespun.
To get a sense of the evolved world of mezcal today, the spirits panel recently tasted 20 bottles. For the tasting, Florence Fabricant and I were joined by two drinks writers and historians, David Wondrich and Robert Simonson.
The makeup of our selection looked completely different from the 2010 tasting. Back then, we could fill our quorum of 20 bottles only by including three from Del Maguey, which all made our top 10.
This time, the selection was overwhelming. Our tasting included just one bottle from Del Maguey, which did not make our top 10. I still enthusiastically recommend the brand, but consumers now have many more options.
Mezcal, like tequila, often comes with an age statement: joven, or young; reposado, which is aged in oak for up to a year, and añejo, which is aged one to three years. I love the purity of agave spirits undistorted by oak, so for this tasting we stuck to joven.
As usual, we bought all the bottles retail, and we capped the selections at $100 a bottle, which ruled out quite a few. Price is an issue, but with mezcal, the economy of scale that governs tequila is absent. Tiny lots of an essentially handmade spirit are costly.
Even without the most expensive choices, we all marveled at the high level of quality in the tasting. We were floored by the wide variety of flavors, complex and strange in the best possible way.
In the past I had come to think of smokiness as the defining feature of mezcal. In this tasting, smokiness, which comes from roasting the agaves in rock-lined pits before fermentation, was just one of many components.
We found aromas and flavors of herbs, vegetables, jalapeños, flowers and a lot more, often in combinations that seemed to vary widely from bottle to bottle.
“It’s quite a chameleon of a spirit,” Robert said.
What accounts for such variety? Partly, it’s a reflection of the diversity of raw materials. Agaves take a long time to grow, and can vary in age. Some are harvested after five years, others after many more.
It’s also a function of production techniques — copper pot stills are most common, for example, but some mezcaleros still use clay stills.
Local traditions differ as well. Sometimes mezcals are redistilled with grains or nuts to add flavor. One famous and expensive style, mezcal de pechuga, is produced by suspending a raw chicken breast inside the still, which is said to add richness and complexity to the spirit. The variables seem endless.
All the mezcals in our tasting were produced without such enhancements, with one exception, the Vago Elote, our No. 6 bottle. The mezcalero who produced it, Aquilino García López, infused it with toasted corn, a style Vago says is traditionally served at special occasions like weddings.
The Elote was bracingly powerful at 50.3 percent alcohol, rich and complex. If we detected the presence of the corn at all, it may have been in its light sweetness.
It’s often said by mezcal enthusiasts that the spirit needs to be at least 45 percent alcohol to show its true character. Perhaps that’s true. Seven bottles in our tasting had alcohol levels under 45 percent, and only two of those made our top 10.
One was our No. 4 bottle, the balanced, complex, floral Montelobos Espadín at 43.2 percent. The other was the spicy, vegetal Derrumbes San Luis Potosí at 43.9 percent, our No. 9 bottle.
Among our favorites, the Derrumbes was one of two bottles not made from the espadín agave. Wild salmiana agaves were used, which perhaps accounted for an unusual flavor that we described as pickled chiles. The other was our No. 8 bottle, the floral, herbal Banhez, made from the cuishe agave, which might explain its quirky fresh, meadowy feeling.
Our top bottle was the Rezpiral Abel Martínez Series Four, named after the mezcalero who produced it. It was briny, deep and complex with a pronounced saline quality.
No. 2 was the subtle, complex, lightly smoky Agave de Cortés Espadín, the sort of spirit in which you seem to taste something different with every sip. By contrast, the No. 3 Sombra, one of the few brands that was also in our 2010 tasting, was rich, deep and assertive, though not as complex. At $35, it was also our best value.
Our No. 5 bottle was the assertive, peppery Nuestra Soledad San Baltazar.
Also well worth considering are the spicy, subtle Yuu Baal at No. 7 and the fruity, peppery Alipús San Andrés at No. 10.
I recognize that many of these mezcals may be difficult to find. They are almost all small-production, “the ultimate craft spirits,” David said. Scaling up mezcal as if it were tequila would diminish it.
The good news is that even if you cannot find the precise bottles that we tasted, many of these brands offer a variety of different bottlings, made by other mezcaleros in different villages using their own techniques and sometimes other sorts of agaves.
They are all worth trying. No doubt, you will find favorites that we did not taste. With mezcal circa 2020, discovery is part of the thrill.
Tasting Report: Mezcals Share Their Secrets
★★★½ Rezpiral Mezcal Espadín Abel Martínez Series Four, 48 percent, $75
Briny, deep and multidimensional, with herbal, saline, licorice and smoke flavors. (USA Wine Imports, New York)
★★★½ Agave de Cortés Mezcal Joven Espadín, 45 percent, $40
Subtle, complex and balanced, with lightly smoky, floral and vegetal aromas and flavors. (Back Bar Project, Seattle)
Best Value
★★★ Sombra Mezcal Joven, 45 percent, $35
Spicy, vegetal and floral, with deep, rich flavors of licorice and herbs. (Davos Brands, New York)
★★★ Montelobos Mezcal Joven Espadín, 43.2 percent, $32
Balanced and complex, with an oily texture and subtle, smoky, herbal and floral flavors. (William Grant & Sons, New York)
★★★ Nuestra Soledad Mezcal Joven Espadín San Baltazar, 47 percent, $55
Complex and assertive, with meaty, peppery, vegetal flavors. (Back Bar Project)
★★½ Vago Mezcal Elote Aquilino García, 50.3 percent, $66
Bracing, powerful and rich, with aromas and lightly sweet flavors of flowers, herbs, licorice and jalapeño. (Montañero Mezcal, Ophir, Colo.)
★★½ Yuu Baal Mezcal Joven Espadín, 48 percent, $37
Spicy and subtle, with flavors of sweet vanilla, spices and bell pepper. (Pacific Edge Imports, Agoura Hills, Calif.)
★★½ Banhez Mezcal Joven Cuishe, 47 percent, $95
Fresh and almost meadowy, with floral, herbal and vegetal flavors. (CNI Brands, Manhasset, N.Y.)
Derrumbes Mezcal San Luis Potosí Salmiana, 43.9 percent, $40
Briny, spicy and vegetal, with flavors of pickled chiles. (PM Spirits, Brooklyn, N.Y.)
★★½ Alipús San Andrés Mezcal Joven, 47.3 percent, $57
Unusual, with peppery, fruity, herbal and sarsparilla flavors. (Kastara Imports, Ukiah, Calif.)
Pairings: Pozole With Duck and Mezcal
Mezcals of character display rustic, vegetal notes and hints of smoke, vanilla and fruit. The mezcals we tasted made the panel hungry for pozole. I started my recipe from scratch, with jumbo dried white kernels of hominy. I used a quick-boil shortcut to reduce the soaking time, and once ready to cook, the meaty corn was a blank canvas, needing chiles and a good dose of cumin. Prepared duck confit replaced the more usual pork or chicken. Some diced fresh pineapple went into the thick stew because I have long considered pineapple to be an excellent match for mezcal. Sip your mezcal as you dig into the pozole, but save a little of the drink for when you are almost finished, to pour into the bowl for the last soupy spoonfuls, the way the French in Gascony do with their red wine when they enjoy a dish called garbure. FLORENCE FABRICANT
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