| Chava planned this trip, so he’ll be the one telling you about it.
The Mexican North has become one of my biggest obsessions: the beers are perfectly chilled, the steaks taste like heaven, and the landscapes couldn’t be more beautiful and brutal. Last month, we told you about reaching Rosario Tesopaco to find our textbook Bacanora (the Platonic ideal), but now we’ll tell you a stranger story. One that started with sipping unlikely spirits at 8 am and ended with late-night guitars.
This Sonora trip was only possible because our good friend Javier Oroz volunteered to introduce us to the region and the many producers he thought were noteworthy (we recorded a super cool podcast with him). Our first stop of the morning, after engulfing more than a few gorditas, was a little store called “Fariseos Bacanora and Souvenirs” (strangest name on earth). When we arrived, it was clearly closed, with no sign showing the hypothetical working hours. So we just knocked and knocked and knocked until our efforts proved fruitful. Just a few moments later, we had little plastic cups filled with all sorts of spirits, including a few dubious “cremas”.
The place itself was very confusing. At times, it’s hard to pay attention to the spirits because of the eclectic combination of artifacts lying around: hairy ceremonial masks, tiny deer antlers, rustic drums big and small, musical instruments made from gourds, and abstract sculptures of flamingos and bulls. But amongst all this confusion, I recall a sharp and perfect “Aha” moment. That certainty of knowing something is special the moment it hits your lips.
-What in the world is this? It doesn’t taste like Bacanora, well, wait, it does, but like a bigger, bolder version of it.
It was the Bacanora / Lechuguilla ensamble, something we had never heard or thought about before. In a way, this ensamble is as atypical as if someone would ever dare to do a Tequila / Mezcal ensamble. It wouldn’t only break more than a handful of laws, but it would create more confusion than excitement (though, now that we’ve written this, we may consider such a stunt. Can you imagine? An overproof Tequilana / Jabalí ensamble? Yum!)
| The Bacanora / Lechuguilla conundrum
A while ago, I was having a conversation with one of the gentlemen who opened “La Botica” in Mexico City back in 2005, when mezcal was still considered, in contrast to fancy Tequila, an improper booze. He told me that when they conceived this mezcaleria, they were expecting to attract an exciting crowd: the artists, the gourmands, and the minds eager to taste Mexico at its best. Instead, those who first approached the venue were looking for the cheapest alcohol, a bathroom to raid, and an excuse to continue a weeks-long drinking spree.
A similar thing happens with Lechuguilla. When we were partying late at night in Alamos, all that was being served, from repurposed brandy bottles, was Lechuguilla. Bacanora was considered to be for classier contexts: “La banda toma Lechuguilla” (“We the people, we drink Lechuguilla”), they told us. We are not super sure of why this is the case. Even if Bacanora production is tiny, in Álamos, it was considered to be a modern drink. Something linked to organized agriculture and well-structured factories. While Lechuguilla is inevitably connected to the mountains, the wild agaves, and unpredictable fermentations.
Lechuguilla is itself an elusive concept. Sometimes people say it is produced with Bovicornuta, others with Maximiliana, and there is even agave that is simply called Lechuguilla. Just try checking the specs of the “Lechuguillas” listed in Mezcal Reviews. They are all over the place. We’ve never had the privilege of seeing these agaves in the flesh, but what is clear to us is that “Lechuguilla” today is just a way to refer to a spirit made with the agaves that are offered by the mountains. There is even a possibility that all “Lechuguillas” are ensambles, a consequence of the many different agave species that grow in these areas. But, to this day, we just don’t know.
Finding the ensamble
One thing is to try an exciting spirit, and a very different thing is to be able to source it. So, after trying that exceptional ensamble we started asking our lengthy list of questions. But we only cared about one: Where can we find the maker? To our surprise, the lady who had taken care of us was the maker’s wife, and after a quick phone call, it was all arranged; we could meet the Maestro at his vinata later that day.
The rest of the day was just pure elation. Ramón Miranda, the Maestro, proved to be an incredible character. He had been trained as an engineer but kept an enthusiasm for the trade and the land that was almost childlike. We sampled many of his spirits, shared an improvised set of grilled quesadillas and he even arranged for us to get a hotel in Alamos.
-It’ll cost you $400 pesos the night – he had told us. But when we arrived, they quoted us a different price. Ramón had followed us on his motorbike, wanting to share more drinks and stories. When he arrived and heard about the price discrepancy, he quickly approached the hotel owner, had a soft word with him, and the $400 peso-a-night promise was immediately honored. This was such a simple gesture, but one that was representative of our time in Sonora. Generosity and courtesy were an absolute constant.
A perfect end of the day
We spent the rest of the afternoon and night with Ramón’s friends at the hotel, surrounded by well-tuned guitars and an infinite flow of Lechuguilla. All along, I kept thinking about the many things he had said about the ensemble: The Lechuguilla is very soft, so it makes sense to cook it on top of the Angustifolias, which are better suited to endure the heat. Lechuguilla’s fermentation is “explosive” (yes, like Jabalí), so it makes sense to have a tank with both agaves to limit the mess. And finally, well, it tastes very very good.
That day, on many levels, exemplified why the agave spirits of Mexico can be so vast and enjoyable. They are the perfect combination of technical mastery and a commitment to deliciousness. We really hope that you enjoy this ensamble as much as we did and that its flavors can bring you to that hotel lobby, where we were able to cheer over and over again with some of the best singers in Alamos. Saludcita! |
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| Want to know more about this feature?
Follow along throughout the month on facebook or instagram to get all the videos, fun facts, and conversations about this month’s feature. Some topics to look forward to include:
- More on the quirks of sourcing, cooking and fermenting Lechuguilla. We didn’t know it was so complicated to deal with it, but it seems not be quite a hard cookie.
- Ramon’s approach to artisanal spirits and how he thinks they can offer a lifeline to farmers battling the continuous droughts that have been affecting Sonora.
- A broken, but fairly complete guide on how to party if you ever reach Alamos and want to spend a colorful night enjoying some pretty spirits.
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Quote of the Month
“The most important thing is to respect the plant. The same way you respect all living beings. When it is perfectly ripe, we know that it is at it’s best and that will yield the most delicious spirit.”
~ Ramón Miranda |
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| CRAFTSMANSHIP TRADITION SUSTAINABILITY |
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