Happy Cinco de Mayo, Sun readers!
To celebrate this widely misunderstood and typically tequila-doused holiday, Sun staffers Jeremy Thomas, Shelly Cone, Amy Asman, and Steve E. Miller decided to make a trip down to Dos Carlitos Restaurant and Tequila Bar in Santa Ynez for a tequila tasting with owner Carlos Lopez-Hollis. Over a few snifters—yes, snifters—of tequila, we learned there’s a great deal more to the Latin elixir than we ever imagined.
Come with us on a voyage through the world of tequila. But first, take a quick look at the true history behind Cinco de Mayo.
What’s in a holiday?
It’s a common misconception, at least among non-Mexicans, that Cinco de Mayo marks the date of Mexico’s independence from Spain. The holiday actually commemorates the outnumbered Mexican army’s victory over French occupying forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862.
“This ragtag bunch of Mexican soldiers and peasants, people literally with pitchforks and whatever they could scrape up, defeated one of the greatest armies in the world at the time,” said Miguel Gamboa, an instructor of history and sociology at Allan Hancock College. “It halted the French advancement for a short period of time. The French were eventually able to regroup and march through Puebla and onto Mexico City and capture the capital.”
Though not particularly significant in strategic terms, the battle became a source of national pride for the Mexican people, a symbol of uniting to overcome insurmountable odds. During the American Civil War, Mexicans and Latinos living in California marked the holiday as a way to show solidarity with the Mexicans still living under French rule.
Since then, Cinco de Mayo has been primarily celebrated in the United States, and many non-Mexicans—oblivious to the holiday’s true origins—now use it as an excuse to get drunk.
“For some in the United States, it’s an opportunity to express what we call symbolic ethnicity,” Gamboa said. “I’m not exactly sure how it became the way it is. Maybe it was to realize it as a big marketing tool and people could sell a lot of alcohol and make a lot of money off this non-holiday.”
For many U.S. drinkers, tequila is the official May 5 go-to liquor, and they don’t give it much thought beyond where to get it. Lots of it.
Tequila could be considered the unofficial national drink of Mexico, but for a variety of reasons that are far more nuanced than a shallow view through a shot glass.
Tequila’s importance to Mexican culture and economy over the years is undeniable. Proprietary to Mexico and only manufactured in parts of Jalisco and three other Mexican states, the alcoholic drink has a history dating from the early 1800s, evolving from the mezcal wine produced by distillers hundreds of years prior to the tequila we know today. Though partiers prefer it on its own or mixed in margaritas, tequila aficionados like Dos Carlitos’s Lopez-Hollis take the drink much more seriously.
“It’s funny how people often view tequila as this throwaway spirit—some rotgut drink they had when they were on Spring Break back in ’89 down in Cabo, or what you drank in the parking lot before the football game,” Lopez-Hollis said. “That’s a mixto—that’s not really tequila. It passes as tequila, but that’s what gives tequila a bad rap.”
“Sometimes people equate it with this really comical, circus-like experience,” he added. “I think people could learn a lot about it, and start to approach it like they would a single-malt Scotch or a nice bottle of Cabernet.”
Though they’re all derived from the fermented juice of the blue agave plant, the five types of tequila—blanco, reposado, anejo, extra anejo, and joven abocado or “gold” tequila—each display unique characteristics and varied tastes.
How it’s made
Tequila comes from the blue agave plant, a succulent named for its spiky, silver-blue leaves. Unlike many cultivated plants, which can often be planted and harvested in the same season, blue agave plants must grow for eight to 12 years before they can be picked.
According to the Book of Tequila by Bob Emmons—a tequila Bible of sorts, according to many people in the industry—blue-agave farmers wait until the plant’s leaves reach a certain height and then cut the flowering spike, forcing it back into the heart of the plant. The stem then swells into a piña, named for its uncanny resemblance to a giant pineapple. It can also be referred to as the cabeza, or “head” in Spanish. Some piñas can weigh as much as 65 pounds.
Using larger razor-sharp tools called coas, the farmers harvest the piñas by cutting away their roots and chopping off all of the spiny leaves. They load the piñas into trucks, which transport them to various distilleries.
Once there, the piñas are cooked in either traditional brick ovens or in modern metal autoclaves. Then, they’re crushed and juiced using the tahona, an ancient wheel, or modern machinery. That honey-like juice is next fermented with water and yeast and distilled in vats. The finished product is tequila blanco.
Blanco/Plata
Thought by many tequila connoisseurs to be the “purest” form of tequila, the colorless blanco or “white” (also known as plata or “silver”) tequilas are either bottled immediately after distillation or aged no more than 90 days in stainless steel vats. Of all the different kinds of tequila, blancos are the most immediate byproduct of the blue agave plant, and therefore contain the most robust and earthy agave flavor. They’re widely considered to be the best tequila for margaritas and vary greatly depending on
such factors as altitude or climate where the plant is harvested.
“True tequila drinkers drink blanco,” Lopez-Hollis said. “It’s like opening up the piña of the plant and biting into it. That’s what tequila is.”
For our Sun taste test, Lopez-Hollis first poured a snifter of Chamucos Blanco, made from highland blue agave. The powerful and zesty lime-and-black pepper flavor hit like a mouthful of killer bees, but in a good way. The natural scent and flavor of the agave was apparent and almost overpowering. Jeremy said it clung to the roof of his mouth for several minutes.
It’s like a spring day,” Lopez-Hollis opined. “Envision a big, fresh mound of organic grass in your face.”
After cleansing his palate with a traditional sangrita—Lopez-Hollis makes his from tomatoes, lime juice, orange juice, grenadine, chilies, and a secret ingredient—Jeremy next tried a glass of Corzo Blanco. It went down much smoother than the Chamucos, with the flavor and alcohol burn slightly mellower as well. On repeated swishings, the Corzo revealed a distinct citrus character, tasting at one point like an overly ripe orange.
“People like how it’s refined, it’s docile,” Lopez-Hollis said. “It’s not killing them.”
The aging process
It’s fairly common knowledge, especially in these parts, that wine is barreled-aged—and that’s what imparts those beautiful flavors of cherry or caramel or currant. In much the same way, reposado and anejo tequila are aged to enhance their flavors and add a bit of woodiness. Blancos, on the other hand, spend a short time distilling in metal tanks and aren’t aged. This process allows for the true flavor of the agave plant to come through with bright, crisp flavor.
“The amount of time that the tequila spends in the barrel, of course, makes each tequila distinctively different,” said Greg Cohen, a tequila master for the Patrón Spirits Company.
Resposado is aged in wood barrels for a couple of months to nearly a year. Tequila aged from 12 months to three years is categorized as anejo, and anything aged for more than three years is considered extra anejo. The extra anejo category was designated in 2006 by Mexico’s Tequila Regulatory Commission, the regulatory body that closely monitors and directs tequila production and exports.
Patrón ages its anejo for at least a year in a combination of American and French oak barrels, Cohen said. He said Patrón also offers a limited-production anejo called Gran Patrón Burdeos, which is finished in hand-selected French Bordeaux barrels. Makers of each brand of tequila have their own preferences in terms of the type of barrels used for aging.
As in wine production, the amount of time the tequila spends in wood determines how much of the wood’s characteristics the tequila picks up. If a darker spirit is your drink, it seems logical that the longer a tequila ages and the more wood flavor it picks up, the better. Right?
Not necessarily, Cohen said: “Unlike Scotch or other spirits, if tequila stays in the barrel too long, you lose the natural agave flavor and just taste the wood.”
Reposado
Reposado, which translates loosely as “rested” in Spanish, is the proverbial middle child of the tequila world. Tequila labeled as reposado must be aged in wooden tanks—typically old whiskey or bourbon barrels—for at least two months. That time period, however, can range up to a year.
When asked to describe reposado, Lopez-Hollis called on his roots as a bartender.
“To me, [reposado] is the splash of water that tones down the Jack Daniel’s. It’s a little bit smoother than straight Jack—the blanco—and it’s not as sweet as Jack and Coke, which would be the anejo,” he said.
One of the reposados served at Dos Carlitos Restaurant is Muchoté, a 100-percent blue agave reposado created and sold by Will Elger and his twin brother, Dave. The Elgers first developed an interest in tequila as young boys growing up in the hotels and resorts of Mexico.
“Our idea was to go back to our roots and to make a handmade, affordable tequila,” Will said. “Growing up in Mexico, everyone’s family had tequila. A lot of times it was a plain bottle with just a piece of masking tape on it that said ‘tequila,’ but it was delicious.”
According to Will, reposado is the most popular tequila in Mexico.
“Everything in Mexico has to do with food,” he said. “When you drink, there’s always something on the table. Blanco kind of gets lost in the flavors of the food. But reposado has a lot more spice and more flavor that really compliments the food.”
Muchoté tequila is fermented and distilled by a third-generation agave farmer in Mexico. It’s then aged in old Jack Daniel’s whiskey barrels for exactly seven months.
“It’s all about finding that consistent taste,” Will said of his aging process. “The agave plant has a natural spice to it. Our tequila is all about keeping that spice and all those sweet flavors, and then it has this clean finish that leaves you salivating for more.”
Anejo
Lopez-Hollis poured a bit of anejo in a snifter. As it climbed down the side of the glass, everyone could tell it would have a starkly different taste than the blanco or reposado next to it. Like a viscous wine, the anejo has legs, only these legs are as long and golden as a fashion model’s. In other words, on a table full of crisp and clear blancos and medium-bodied reposados, anejo is a visual standout.
That’s why it’s meant to be enjoyed alone, sans lime and salt—and definitely not as the added alcohol to a fruity drink.
“You don’t drink it in a margarita,” Lopez-Hollis said. “You wouldn’t put a $100 bottle of Zinfandel in a sangria, and you wouldn’t put a fine anejo in a margarita. Some anejos you don’t mess with. It’s ready to go. It’s ready to be drunk.”
Taste is a matter of preference, and when it comes to tequila, connoisseurs definitely have preferences. Maybe it’s the crisp and true taste of the agave coming through (as with a blanco), or the balance prevalent in a reposado, or the minimal agave/strong woody taste in an anejo.
Most anejos offer flavors of vanilla or honey with a definite smokiness. They often have a slightly sweet, caramelized taste.
Patrón’s Cohen described it this way: “If you like brown spirits, like a cognac or whiskey, then you’re likely a Patrón Reposado or Patrón Anejo drinker. If you prefer vodka or other white spirits, then you’re probably partial to Patrón Silver.”
No matter what type of tequila is poured, there’s definitely a time and place for it. While connoisseurs will often scoff at a tequila made with additives or mixes, if it’s meant for a celebratory shot or blended drink, that may be the call. However, for a fine sipping experience, a quality tequila, good company, and excellent food definitely go hand in hand.
The Sun staff would like to thank the San Luis Obispo Public Library for lending us its tequila bible, The Book of Tequila: A Complete Guide by Bob Emmons. Send comments to Editor Amy Asman, Arts Editor Shelly Cone, and Staff Writer Jeremy Thomas via the executive editor at rmiller@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in May 5-12, 2011.