Alvin Starkman, M.A., J.D.

Residents of villages, and to a lesser extent towns, throughout Canada, the United States, and Mexico, in many respects tend to fit an oft-perceived mold of rural conservatism. However when considering those in the mezcal distillation industry in the southern state of Oaxaca, a trending towards innovative practices appears to be taking hold. Lobster pechuga and cannabis infused/distilled espadín are just the tip of the iceberg, the latter perhaps already “old hat” in the eyes of some.

In August, 2022, a client who had contacted me for a day of exploring ancestral (clay) and artisanal (copper) production techniques, and just as importantly to embark upon buying opportunities, emailed me that he was particularly interested in “visiting more of the mezcaleros / mezcaleras that are more experimental or innovative.” That got me to ponder my preconceived notions of conservatism amongst palenqueros (as they’re commonly known in Oaxaca).

True, there are Oaxacan agave distillers who continue to resist change, in some cases at the behest of brand owners, and their followers who fashion themselves purists. But change is in the wind, buoyed (1) by the more progressive palenqueros, (2) by those who may be conservative but understand the financial benefit of thinking just a little outside-of-the-box, (3) by the more entrepreneurial brand owners, and (4) by those distillers simply not afraid to experiment and are unphased by those who might launch tirades in their direction. And from what I have gleaned certainly over the past decade, the consuming public has made it worthwhile for palenqueros to continue to push the envelope. In every case of which I am aware, the distillers have ignored the naysayers in favor of bringing new products and techniques to market. This has paid dividends; increased sales have accrued to the financial benefit of the families of palenqueros and their fellow villagers, and their reputations have received a shot in the arm.

The one and only qualification to the forgoing two positives in the area of techniques, has been when those who have traditionally distilled in copper alembics have tried their hand at clay. And I am certainly not aware of anyone who has made the effort to augment their clay offerings with copper. Why would they even try?

In these cases of trying to distill in clay from a copper family tradition, I imagine that the impetus has been being to then be able to put the word “ancestral” on their labels. Unfortunately, I have not been impressed with the mezcal of those who have attempted the transition.

But both the late Everardo García (San Pablo Villa de Mitla) and Don Lencho García and his son Silverio (Rancho Blanco Güilá) have successfully developed hybrids of copper and clay, each having come from a recent copper background. When I’ve done comparative tastings with clients, the hybrids have always won out over the pure copper! I didn’t get a chance to ask Everardo why he decided upon the new type of still and how he arrived at determining which parts should be clay and which copper (obviously the condenser would remain copper), but Silverio explained the family’s initial experiment to me. When his father started out with Silverio’s grandfather more than a half century ago, the family lacked resources to buy a complete copper alembic. So they adapted, using an inverted clay pot as the upper copper bell, and for the connecting copper tube they used a length of quiote (flower stalk). The bottom pot and the serpentine, both copper, remained the same. The foregoing two cases are examples of the palenqueros, and no others egging them on, being innovative, albeit Don Lencho and son having copied a family tradition long lost --- until now.

Another case of palenquero innovativeness is found in Rodolfo López Sosa (San Juan del Río). He, likely having come across something similar in another state, has become more efficient in the baking process, thus enabling him to either pass on savings by keeping his price per liter a little lower than would otherwise be the case, or increasing his profit margin by saving time and labor. When emptying his oven, he no longer has to lift out the rocks to remove the charcoal and place more firewood. How is that possible, one might ask. He has created a basement or tunnel beneath the below-ground earthen oven, with an entranceway easily sealed with bricks. After each bake he simply walks down a few steps, opens the makeshift doorway, removes the charred wood, and replaces it with new.
His rather unconventional practices also extend to filling his fermentation vats, and more significantly how he achieves diversity in his range of mezcal products. His village is indeed noted for the quality of the agave distillate produced there, mainly using Agave angustifolia Haw (espadín). Don Rodolfo is not averse to distilling the agave with a varied range of fruits and herbs in order to provide prospective and existing clients with a broad selection of products from which to choose. Otherwise, there would be espad{in and little more except for the odd small batch of tobalá or cuily (Agave marmorata). Curiously, he is one of the few if not the only palenquero with whom I am acquainted who does a pechuga with fowl protein (pechuga de guajolote) and no fruits or herbs. However, he is always willing to deviate from that format, as I have learned first hand.

Several years ago I asked Don Rodolfo to distill a batch of pechuga de guajolote with maple syrup. No problem. Then another, then a further pechuga using fresh lychees. As long as one pays for the end product, many palenqueros will give it a shot. The lychee didn’t turn out as I had hoped, and I can’t in good conscience even give it away as Christmas gifts, but that’s not his issue, and he likely doesn’t even know of my disappointment. But we’re at it again, turkey breast with honey having proved to be a winner, and as soon as I get more maple syrup, more of that first recipe Don Rodolfo distilled.

The problem for me is I always feel obliged to buy whatever is produced, the result turning out to be 50 – 60 liters minimum. But others have figured out a solution; both palenqueros and their export patrons.

Celso Martínez (Santiago Matatlán) produces in copper for his own brand (La Jicarita) and for a couple of export brands owned by others (Nacional and Dangerous Don). British citizen Thea Cumming wanted Don Celso to help her to develop a quality non-sugary coffee mezcal. After umpteen tries with coffee alone, and coffee with other ingredients, and playing around with various ABVs, they found the recipe for success, Ms. Cumming of course with the final word, as always. But upon achieving success with her signature coffee mezcal, she decided that it would be a worthwhile effort to consider distilling with other natural ingredients thrown into the mix, rather than coffee. She purchased a small copper alembic so that Don Celso would not have to make a large amount, and Thea would not end up in my own personal predicament. Both together, and Don Celso of his own initiative, have produced several different agave distillates using a broad range of flowers, herbs and fruits, there being no bounds. All that Don Celso needed with that little push, a chance to see the potential of mezcal distilled with more than agave. All this goes far beyond infusing with larvae (mezcal de gusano) or siete hierbas (seven herbs).

Did someone say weed? Infusing with cannabis is nothing new. Victoria Ramírez (San Baltazar Chichicapam) tells me that in her village the distillate with marijuana added has traditionally been used topically to alleviate muscle aches, much in the same way as using mezcal infused with scorpions. But when 9 – 10 years ago I suggested to daughter Estela that the family once again make that very mezcal, she asked why. “If you make it, the Americans will buy it,” was my retort. But now, as the laws surrounding consumption and even sale of cannabis are relaxing in Mexico, with fully legal recreational consumption right around the corner, a whole new breed is being born, those who are, rather than infusing, actually distilling with it. When I first began exploring palenques in Oaxaca some three decades ago, that was unheard of. But now many palenqueros are sourcing weed and including it in the second distillation, even though to my knowledge the psychotropic effect is non-existent, the THC dissipating with condensation. But the aroma and flavor is what attracts the consumer. Many imbibers like me in particular no longer yearn to get high, but enjoy that reminder of past decades toking with friends while passing joints as we sat around on the floor in a circle. The most flavorful cannabis distillate I have encountered is made by Artemio García (San Dionisio Ocotepec), with honorable mention going to Rosario Ángeles (Santa Catarina Minas).

Rosario’s youth, and the fact that she is not from a mezcal-making family, with no father, uncle or grandfather telling her what she can and cannot do, has brought her to the cutting edge of Oaxacan agave distillation. In fact she has constructed a 20-liter clay pot still for her experimentation. Her chocolate mezcal is exquisite. And she is the one with whom I have been working distilling with lobster, and an assortment of select fruits and herbs which we have varied from batch to batch. Her willingness to deviate from tradition is refreshing. And when I arrived at her Palenque the morning of the most recent lobster distillation with a bottle of Lakeview Cellars’ Niagara Peninsula VQA Vidal Icewine in hand to pour into the clay pot, she didn’t flinch. Now that’s being progressive!

In the same village of Santa Catarina Minas from which Rosario hails, lives one of the grand maestros of olla de barro (clay pot) distillation, Felix Ángeles Arellanes. Don Felix boasts about 20 (likely more these days) different expressions of agave distillate, including five pechugas. While village tradition dictates using particular fruits and herbs, Don Felix is not afraid to give his hand at the more unusual, using whatever strikes his fancy. Nor does he shy away from distilling his pechugas using different species of agave. He currently is offering pechugas using espadín, tobasiche, tobalá, arroqueño and even tepeztate. When he first began using tepeztate, typically one of the more expensive agave distillates offered throughout the state, I questioned whether anyone would spend that kind of money on a liter of mezcal purchased directly from the producer. I was sorely (and now as it turns out embarrassingly) wrong. His vegan pechuga, as I term it, first distilled in July, 2022, includes spaghetti squash, corn, pineapple and panela; even my wife, who doesn’t drink mezcal, will tolerate it. She begrudgingly admits she actually likes it.

And when an export client (Doña Vega mezcal) asked the late Juan Hernández (Santiago Matatlán) to distill a sample batch with pineapple and celery, Don Juan complied with the request. While that expression failed to make a final cut for Doña Vega, the brand has gone on to considerable success, now with daughter Lidia Hernández at the helm of the family’s mezcal production. That little push from Doña Vega to think outside-of-the-box was all that attorney Lidia needed. She, like so many of the others, is now distilling with a plethora of added ingredients; one expression with watermelon, another with fig and cinnamon, etc., etc., etc. And she now has a mezcal infused with 14 herbs.

Some infusions and distillates which include more than agave, are designed for the WOW factor and little more. What comes to mind is that snake-infused espadín I purchased a decade ago for just that reason. It’s here in my home somewhere, but for the life of me I don’t know where I hid it, though likely very well so I would never be tempted to try it again. In my opinion it’s nothing more than a gimmick. On the other hand, my most recent acquisition has been a mezcal distilled with chicatanas (flying ants, a seasonal delicacy in Oaxaca). The palenquero owns a new restaurant in an upscale neighborhood in the city of Oaxaca, and with this concoction undoubtedly patrons will pay handsomely for the opportunity to include a 1.5 ounce pour alongside their meals. The difference with this particular agave distillate as compared to the snake infused, is that the flavor does reveal a pleasant hint of chicatana. Why this producer with this ingredient? Clearly, he’s a Oaxacan entrepreneur willing to risk his hand in the ever-so-fleeting and difficult restaurant industry. If anything will contribute to his success, it will be this particular mezcal, which will lead him to consider using all other fashion of unique natural additives in distillation and likely for infusing.

There are indeed palenqueros, and in fact entire villages known for mezcal production, where conservatism still reigns. It’s rather interesting that there can be a village personality characterized by staunch resistance to change which extends to ingredients, means of production and tools employed in mezcal production. And while I have witnessed material advancements in distiller palenques and to a lesser extent lifestyles, I attribute this to no more than the current mezcal boom. By contrast, in each and every case where names have been noted above, growth and improvement have been palpable. And yes, it results in both an amelioration of economic lot, and improved self-worth of the palenqueros, extending to their family members. I’ve noted the influence of brand owners, progressive personalities, and those simply willing to adopt the advice of others. Yes, there will continue to be the detractors, but hopefully some will begin to see the light and experiment on their own, sampling whatever becomes available to them, with an open mind. If the palenqueros they worship are willing to take that first step, so should they. It can only improve the Oaxaca agave distillate industry, across the board.
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Alvin Starkman operates Mezcal Educational Excursions of Oaxaca (mezcaleducationaltours.com). His book Mezcal in the Global Spirits Market: Unrivalled Complexity, Innumerable Nuances, is now in its third printing, significantly expanded from its prior editions. 
graph. Haz clic aquí para editar.

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Alvin Starkman, M.A., J.D.

Dogmatism in the mezcal industry causes misinformation to metastasize. It begins when those with the broadest and loudest platforms create other lesser aficionados, yet still in their likeness. The latter are agave distillate (relative) novices who as a consequence of predominantly online social media find their own audiences, and these neophytes are revered by others with even less mezcal experience. Then they too continue to preach false gospel. And it’s all reinforced; those on the bottom rung are applauded by their disciples above them, and that misinformation keeps climbing until it reaches the top, where those at that pinnacle can applaud their much earlier proclaimed “truths.” Who would ever question the words brought down from Mount Sinai? That would be deemed sacrilegious, tantamount to heresy.

There are several manifestations of mezcal dogmatism. Its dissemination ultimately impacts the masses. Change is difficult to achieve once the number of believers increases without a rein to slow it down from a gallop, to a trot, to a walk, and finally a stop. But we must keep on trying to set the record straight, or at minimum be open to receiving differing perspectives, for the long-term benefit of both those who have been lead down the garden path, and the mezcal industry in general.  And so, let’s summarize the arguments I have been laying out over the past several years.

Wild, Cultivated, Multinationals & Celebrities

“Tobalá is a wild agave,” state many in the industry who should know better. Some even label all of their non-espadín agave distillate maguey expressions with the term wild or silvestre. Thankfully change is in the wind, although the breeze blows ever so slowly, even as I and others post photos of row upon row of clearly cultivated barril, tobalá, arroqueño, mexicano, and the list goes on. Yet the misinformation continues. Why? The promoters of such myths try to capture the romanticism of generations long passed, of the poor campesino foraging in the hills. Yes, there is still wild agave out there, and yes, it is being harvested. But certainly not as previously. In my opinion, far more mezcal supposedly produced with wild agave, is in fact distilled with maguey cultivado. Relatively little is produced with the real deal. And that’s a good thing.

The uneducated consumer wrongly assumes, or is told, that a mezcal made with wild agave tastes better than its cultivated counterpart, and will often readily pay more. In my opinion quality most often depends predominantly on the skill of the maker.

If you visit a palenque, certainly in the state of Oaxaca, sometimes cultivated costs more than wild. That might be because of at least two factors: (1) the carbohydrate content of the maguey silvestre might be higher than that of its seed-grown and transplanted equivalent, thus yield goes up and price accordingly comes down; (2) if it’s been cultivated, that suggests that someone may have paid for the land on which it grows, and has been tending the rows of agave for several years.

We know that big business is now in the mezcal industry; over the past decade or longer having purchased outright or an interest in some of our preferred brands. Corporations which come to mind include Pernod Ricard, Bacardi, Diageo and Constellation Brands. They are in the business of making money. And celebrities have their own brands of agave distillate as well. In both cases they have a global reach, meaning that mezcal is now available in countries and otherwise in relatively remote parts of the world where previously the spirit was not on the shelves. And in the case of those movie stars, sports figures and musicians, their name recognition alone increases knowledge of the distillate and accordingly mezcal sales. So there is much more mezcal made with tobalá, tepeztate, madrecuixe, and all the rest, now being sold. And that’s a good thing. Don’t automatically decry the large corporations and celebrity brands. Understand the positive(s) in the case of the former, and that some celebrities endeavor to “do the right thing” when it comes to interacting with palenqueros, their families and their villages.

The large corporate interest wants to keep profiting, and therefore so as to continue to do so, want to ensure that these “designer” magueys will always be available to them. They are buying land and having people plant for them; grown from seed, and using the hijuelos, and maguey de quiote. Good or bad, it’s happening. In addition, there are communities, recognizing the mezcal boom, while continuing to allow their residents to harvest from the wild are sometimes requiring that for every wild agave harvested, two must be planted; grown in their greenhouses or on their communal land. And that’s a good thing.[1]

What constitutes a cultivated plant? Some say it must have been planted by humans for at least five generations in order to be truly considered cultivated. Otherwise, some say, a more appropriate term is semi-cultivated or semi-wild. But for we as lay people, I would suggest, either of the following defines a cultivated plant, agave or otherwise:

• Grown for its produce;
• Planted and grown rather than emerging naturally as part of the biome where it is found.

The corollary might be something like: wild agave is that which grows without any help from people (independent of human action), naturally, self-maintaining, in its own environment.

The Purist & Traditional Mezcal

“You should only drink traditional, pure unadulterated mezcal,” is an amalgam of what one hears from some working at and owning mezcal bars both in the US, and even in mezcal’s heartland, Mexico’s state of Oaxaca. And it’s also preached by some of the mezcal world’s “purists,” many of whom shun cocktails made with the spirit (but I ask rhetorically if they drink margaritas made with tequila; or are they just anti-cocktail).

What do they mean by “traditional” mezcal? I assume they are referring to the agave distillates now categorized as ancestral or artesanal. But do they realize that the mezcal they have been drinking outside of Mexico since the early part of this millennium is not what was most often drunk throughout all of the 1900s (and earlier) and into the first decade of the 2000s? If today you buy your mezcal in New York, London, Vancouver, Paris or LA, you are likely not drinking a traditionally-distilled agave spirit. Why? Because prior to the promulgation and enforcement of the COMERCAM/CRM dictates, there was no requirement to have your mezcal lab-tested for certain chemical compounds or for acidity, or for methanol. Flavor profiles necessarily changed! Methanol contributes to the nature of the distillate just as the head tastes different from the body which tastes different from the tail.  All of a sudden, in order to get brands of mezcal out of Mexico, its recipe had to change (unless the producer had already been removing the methanol).[2] So today, if you want to drink traditional mezcal, you must either purchase an agave distillate (as opposed to mezcal) the brand owner of which may not be that concerned with lab test results, or come to Mexico and buy uncertified product directly from the producer, or perhaps drink one of many house “mezcals” (technically agave distillates) offered in local bars, restaurants and mezcalerías. Perhaps you should regularly visit Mexico to buy your agave distillate, if you consider yourself a purist.

Many of the same aficionados shun aged mezcal, as well as pechugas, any agave spirit infused with anything (i.e. the gusano, herbs, fruit, etc.), and certainly a mezcal wherein the agave has been steamed in an autoclave or a sealed brick room. They contend it must be baked over firewood and rocks, and fermented in traditional vats whatever that means. They want what they consider to be the real deal. They don’t want the true nuances imparted by the particular sub-species of agave to be masked or adulterated. But wait a minute. Doesn’t the particular type of firewood over which the agave is baked impact (alter) the flavor? Doesn’t the composition of the fermentation vat impact (alter) the nose? Doesn’t the water source (i.e. river, well or mountain stream) impact (alter) the finish? Wouldn’t you get the true nuance imparted by the particular sub-species of agave by steaming it and using stainless steel fermentation vats and a consistent water source filtered the same way all the time? They want traditional, but they aren’t getting it, yet don’t realize it.

Mezcal reposado and añejo have been around since long before these pundits were even born, aged agave distillates dating back hundreds of years. And pechugas since likely the 1800s based on archival evidence, and certainly in Oaxaca since the 1930s, if not earlier, based upon oral histories I have taken. How far back must we go for mezcal to be termed “traditional?” And so there’s an incongruity between wanting to promote what they call “traditional” mezcal, and wanting to retain all the natural nuances based on agave type, yet wanting to mask them by cooking over firewood and fermenting in vats made of wood, clay, or animal skin, and using different natural water sources. In a 2021 publication (Mezcal in the Global Spirits Market: Unrivalled Complexity, Innumerable Nuances [Third Expanded Edition with Portraits]), I tried to enumerate the unlimited diversity in nose, body and finish, achieved in traditionally made mezcal.

They say don’t drink it with the worm or adulterated with fruit, herbs and/or meat proteins because you’ll then be bastardizing the spirit. But they also say do discern the differences based upon the rest, what they want to illustrate (clay v. copper; growing region, cowhide v. pine vats, etc.), and nothing else.

The Best This & The Best That

Those at or near the bottom rung of the ladder are now going off on their own tangents, something those near the top never intended to happen. We find them on social media showing their prowess by going as far as commenting in the superlative: “The tepeztate distilled by W palenquero in X village using Y means of production and Z tools of the trade, is the absolute best.” Not only does she lose credibility, but wreaks lasting damage to industry growth. While I disagree with the concept of tasting notes as a general rule in the case of hand-crafted agave distillates, it would be much better to yes, describe nose, body and finish, even with additional descriptors, and leave out it’s “the best.” The problem with superlatives, certainly in this context, is 1) some might not realize that they are essentially subjective, and 2) someone new to the spirit might very well conclude “if that’s the best mezcal has to offer, I’m hightailing it back to single malts.”

Epilogue (The Harm Done)

As I have noted in Mezcal in the Global Spirits Market and elsewhere, some want to keep mezcal as a secret society for the in-crowd only. That’s what it was like in the late 1990s when the modern era of mezcal began (with Del Maguey et al); at the time it was somewhat understandable. But now the industry has unbridled potential, with an opportunity to positively impact the economy of at least Oaxaca, one of the poorest states in Mexico. Those in the secret society shun the concept of mezcal cocktails despite the fact that their growth in the marketplace helps the economy of Oaxaca and the producers they should want to support. Their dogmatism and spreading of misinformation harms the industry, inhibiting its growth.

You know who you are. Take a step back. Act responsibly. Think before you write, speak, promote. Understand that there are very few absolutes in the industry. Let your disciples know others’ points of view and not just your own, and use this to promote healthy discussion. Remember that the longer you’ve been around the industry, the more you will realize how little you know.

Alvin Starkman has been gradually increasing his knowledge of mezcal for more than three decades. He has written over 70 articles about the spirit, agave and industry sustainability. Alvin operates Mezcal Educational Excursions of Oaxaca (mezcaleducationaltours.com). He is the author of Mezcal in the Global Spirits Market:  Unrivalled Complexity, Innumerable Nuances (Third Expanded Edition).


[1] As an aside, and not directly related to the theme of this article yet nevertheless worthy of note and discussion at a later date, Schippmann, Leaman & Cunningham wrote:

“Demand for a wide variety of wild species is increasing with growth in human needs, numbers and commercial trade. With the increased realization that some wild species are being over-exploited, a number of agencies are recommending that wild species be brought into cultivation systems (BAH 2004; Lambert et al. 1997; WHO 1993). Cultivation can also have conservation impacts, however, and these need to be better understood. Medicinal plant production through cultivation, for example, can reduce the extent to which wild populations are harvested, but it also may lead to environmental degradation and loss of genetic diversity as well as loss of incentives to conserve wild populations.”
And so indeed it is a slippery slope.
 

[2] For the average consumer of agave distillates, the methanol in mezcal, even if not removed to meet the standard, will not make you go blind, kill you, or make you gravely ill.

                                   Fortunato Hernández, San Baltazar Chichicapam

                                 Felix Ángeles Arellanes, Santa Catarina Minas

                        At the palenque of Manuel Méndez, San Dionisio Ocotepec

That’s all fine, and certainly welcomed by the families of palenqueros, but it’s merely “stuff.” A much more important change has begun to take hold, and it’s rather apparent. Material possessions can do only so much for the soul of a people.  

                             Juana Mateo serving aguamiel, Santiago Matatlán

Prior to the mid-1990s’ commencement of what I term the modern era of mezcal, very few people were interested in the agave distillate. In the US that gut-wrenching hooch was drunk mainly in shots, by youths who couldn´t afford anything better, with all manner of myth about who gets the worm. In urban Mexico it was shunned, a drink for poor village folk.  Then the pilgrimage began. 

                    Victoria Ramírez illustrating ABV, San Baltazar Chichicapam

  Estela Hernández' home with a group of mezcal aficionados, San Baltazar Chichicapam

                                        Reina Sánchez, Distrito de Miahuatlán

Cutting an 1,100 pound arroqueño (Agave americana oaxaquensis), Santa Catarina Minas

               In the process of making a hand-stitched tortillera, Distrito de Zimatlán

Of course, each distiller wants to make a sale. But now there’s something more, in their affect, in their interactions with those from outside of their world. Heads are now high, smiles peak through, “come and let me show you this.” If you buy, that’s great, but if not, the palenquero has nevertheless obtained something equally if not more important to him and his family members, a shot in the arm of self-respect, dignity, and sense of worth which money cannot buy.  

                                 Santos Martínez, San Lorenzo Albarradas

                                         Rodolfo López Sosa, San Juan del Río

                  At the palenque of Lencho García & son Silverio, Rancho Blanco Güilá

Alvin Starkman, M.A., J.D.

Who better to write a book about the business of mezcal than a Oaxacan lawyer who specializes in advising palenqueros, brand owners and prospective agave distillate entrepreneurs, about the quagmire of industry rules, regulations and nuances? In El ABC del Negocio del Mezcal [Carteles Editores, 2021], Blanca Esther Salvador Martínez accomplishes that end in spades.  And who better to put mezcal in its historical and global context than an academic who teaches a class centering upon international marketing? Maestra Salvador Martínez does that as well.

Translated as “The ABCs of the Mezcal Business,” the book is an easy yet detailed read, even for those of us who are not 100% fluent in Spanish. The 100-page publication consists of four well-footnoted chapters, in addition to a preface, introduction, epilogue, glossary and bibliography. The author breaks it all down into close to 90 headings plus charts and diagrams, thus making every point she endeavors to convey relatively simple to digest. And for those wanting to delve further into the subject matter, even the references are categorized; into legislation, books and related documents, websites, and journalistic coverage.

Ms. Salvador Martínez’s initial chapter contextualizes mezcal as a unique spirit by explaining the development and importance of the DO [Denominación de Origen]. Her Roquefort cheese analogy hits home. She then answers those who would be critical of the concept of the NOM [Norma Oficial Mexicana].

The chapter dealing with concerns within the industry is extremely thorough. But it would be wrong to assume that the issues the author identifies are restricted solely to this section of the book. Indeed the problems and pitfalls are woven throughout the remainder of the treatise. Those subsequent chapters primarily address (1) action steps reasonably required as prerequisites for entering the industry, and (2) practical advice.

The book canvases the vagaries of agave production based on:

• government incursion into the industry;
• the fickleness of the consumer and how that impacts price of the raw material, when and how much to plant, etc.;
• agave being at the mercy of plagues, and its owners of crop thievery;
• the vulnerability of small producers and growers due to lack of education and level of sophistication [explained with respectful objectivity];
• the sometimes loggerhead between land ownership and rural custom;
• the onerous requirements of the CRM [Consejo Regulador del Mezcal] as pitted against production of “destilados de agave.”

The foregoing are but some of the considerations about which Ms. Salvador Martínez enlightens the reader.

The mezcal industry is complex. The roadblocks which potentially preclude entry and certainly delay, are numerous. Ms. Salvador Martínez stresses, as a cautionary note, the importance of seeking out different individuals, each an expert in his/her field, rather than adopting a one-stop-shopping attitude when it comes to relying on the advice of others. She quotes Albert Einstein as stating “a smart person resolves a problem, a wise person avoids it.”

Ms. Salvador Martínez accurately pinpoints and explores the barriers to embarking upon a successful business plan, together with resolution mechanisms. However for me it was the ethical dimension which receives comprehensive treatment which most drew my attention. She identifies what I refer to as an inequality of bargaining power to which we all must be cognizant and find a way to reasonably and fairly address.

For the pure imbiber, whether novice or aficionado, the book it important because to a certain extent it is a primer which covers some of those basics in a readable to-the-point fashion. They are the tidbits which are not readily discernable from other literature about mezcal, or from attending a bar or mezcalería and inquiring of those who at first blush appear be in the know.

And to be clear, El ABC del Negocio del Mezcal is a book for more than those contemplating or in the process of getting into the industry. It should also be read by those already integrally involved with the business of mezcal. It encourages the reader to take a step back and re-evaluate why the desire to be or remain in the industry. In order to truly respect mezcal and all those involved in its production from field to bottle, there must be an impetus beyond the spirit as simply a vehicle by which to earn income. And so for all, this book is a must read; once, and again as a refresher. 

Alvin Starkman operates Mezcal Educational Excursions of Oaxaca (www.mezcaleducationaltours.com). When advising prospective agave dsitllate brand owners he works closely with Ms. Salvador Martínez. 

Alvin Starkman, M.A., J.D.
 
One distills mezcal in what is now the more traditional means of production tradition, that is in 300 liter copper alembics. The other makes classic ancestral agave dsitillate. They live and work in different districts of the state of Oaxaca, and their generational backgrounds, personalities and lifestyles are rather different. But a common thread which binds is that they have never allowed family distillation methods to constrain them. They think somewhat outside-of-the-box, albeit in divergent manners. And in so doing each in his own way improves efficiency.
 
This article presupposes that the reader either (a) has been to Oaxaca and seen both types of palenques in operation and understands the broad strokes of how they typically function, or (b) has read and/or seen enough videos or documentaries to understand how each of ancestral clay pot distillation and artesanal copper alembic production works; and their distillery configurations. While of course the palenques of Jose Alberto Pablo and Rodolfo López Sosa are not entirely unique, each does significantly deviate from what continues to be the village norm. One might say that each distills to a different drummer.

Rodolfo López Sosa, Tlacolula District of Oaxaca
 
Rodolfo López Sosa’s wife thought he had succumbed to premature senility when he told her he wanted to build his palenque not close to the shore of the river running through his village of San Juan del Río as his fellow distillers had done, but rather high up in the mountains overlooking the residential and commercial area far down below.  He draws his water from a spring water source even much higher up from his palenque. The airborne yeasts are indeed different at his palenque, but the more significant feature is the water quality, distinct from that sourced by the rest of the mezcal producers the majority of whom draw the lifeblood of production from the river or a shore well.
 
The recently retired teacher, now alcalde (chief judicial officer or magistrate) of the village, does not assume that the way his forebears have done things and his father has taught is necessarily the best way. Naturally some courses of action should not be trampled. One is the type of maguey (agave) used to distill. The microclimate is highly suited to growing Agave angustifolia Haw (espadín). [In José Alberto’s case it’s lumbre.] So while Rodolfo occasionally sources maguey from further afield as do others, his preference is to stick to espadín. So how does he achieve an assortment of aromas, flavor profiles and finishes, if not via aging in oak? Rodolfo has a knack for achieving diversity by distilling with a variety of different fruits, herbs and other products of nature during the second pass-through, that is when distilling the shishe. Ah, but you say he’s just making a vegan pechuga. No, and in fact when he does a third distillation for his pechugas, he often uses only turkey breast with nary a fruit or herb, or adds a very limited number of additional ingredients. This is distinct from, for example, the traditional recipes employed in towns and villages such as Santa Catarina Minas, San Baltazar Chichicapam and Santiago Matatlán. And when he does add something foreign to the still, typically it is a single additional ingredient. Rejecting the usual cacophony of flavors emerging from a pechuga in favor of using only one or two external ingredients results in a more subtle agave distillate with only a hint of what he adds emerging. Rodolfo and I are ad idem when it comes to the result we seek to achieve in our distillates, and so for those two (and other) reasons, when I consider a particular recipe, he’s my go-to palenquero to bring it to fruition. 
 
Question: How does one avoid the arduous task of removing the rocks from the oven before commencing the next bake? Answer: By not removing the rocks. In Rodolfo’s world, the mound of rocks is permanently placed on a platform which includes special order clay bricks. At the back of his oven, there’s a staircase leading downwards, to a brick and mud wall, the other side of which is where the firewood is inserted under the platform. And so just prior to the subsequent bake, in the course of 10 – 15 minutes Rodolfo takes apart the wall, then removes the charcoal if he so desires, places fresh firewood, and again taking no more than 15 or so minutes seals the wall with the bricks and mortar.
 
Why most others do not adapt what Newton has taught is not germane to this essay. But how Rodolfo has done so certainly is. In the usual course of crushing, once the horse, mule or team of oxen has finished, one pitches the bazago into a wheelbarrow, walks it up a plank of lumber and then dumps it into a wooden fermentation vat, or worse, alone or with someone’s assistance lifts the wheelbarrow and them dumps the contents. Then at the end of the day’s crushing and lugging, the accumulated liquid is swept into a depression, gathered into a pot and finally emptied into the vat containing the bagazo. Alas Rodolfo’s method stands in stark contrast.
 
Rodolfo’s tahona on the circular encasing is only a couple of feet from a door leading to a lower level where his vats are located. A fermentation vat is slid to and right under the door entrance. The bazazo is pitched directly into the vat, then once filled the vat is moved aside and another is rolled to the location of the first. No wheelbarrow, no ramp, no lifting, simply gravity. There is a small hole in the stone encasing in front of the door leading to the vat area. The hole is dug down and through the wall up to which and opening to where the vat is located. And so at the end of the day the accumulated liquid is simply swept into the hole and it drips directly into the vat. Once again, it’s all gravity!
 
I’m not sure if Rodolfo was recently awoken yet again, perhaps this time by an apple falling on him from a tree, or perhaps it was merely a natural development in the course of teaching his former students. But he’s taken another lesson from Sir Isaac.  In order for tractor trailers to access his palenque to transport pallets of bottled and boxed mezcal to Oaxaca and then to the border, a port, or to other domestic destinations, they must wend up an extremely steep dirt roadway and then somehow make a sharp left turn. It’s only a 70 or so yard exercise, but a daunting task. And so this palenquero extraordinaire plans to build a conveyer belt to lower the pallets to the main roadway so that the tractor trailer driver need not worry about getting stuck, or worse yet toppling over the cliff. 
 
José Alberto Pablo, Zimatlán District of Oaxaca
 
José Alberto Pablo hails from a village in Oaxaca’s Zimatlán district, namely San Bernardo Mixtepec, where for generations tradition has dictated, and still does today, condensing in laminated metal as opposed to copper or stainless steel. The result is a mezcal which is amber in color, caused by the rust which forms on the laminate. However, Consejo Regulador del Mezcal (CRM), the main regulatory board for this agave distillate, will not certify his mezcal because of the chemical compounds detected in laboratory testing. If he continues to produce the mezcal his fellow villagers demand, with the rust, he cannot sell that mezcal as certified. And so now on the cusp of certification, José Alberto still relying on sales to locals continues to use laminate, but also employs both stainless and copper condensers. He prefers the taste produced when using the stainless. He switches between the two as he wishes, but his staple remains an agave distillate produced using a laminated metal condenser. And over time, given that “rust never sleeps,” his traditional mezcal takes on an even deeper tone, eventually arriving at orange, after which time as a consequence of use a new condenser must be employed.
 
But the more significant uniqueness of José Alberto’s operation is found elsewhere. Fermenting in clay pots is not particularly unusual. However while others in his village keep their ollas de barro outdoors, this young maestro constructed a room in which the fermentation pots are situate. They are still exposed to the airborne yeasts of the area, but José Alberto has a distinct advantage over his fellow palenqueros. Not only does the tepache (mash of liquid and fiber) heat up quicker indoors than if the pots were outside, but the fermentation process occurs faster also because the roof material allows the sun to partially penetrate, particularly important during the cold weather months. And during the rainy season he doesn’t have to cover the pots as other villagers do.
 
While José Alberto’s still configuration and apparatus have a couple of small unassuming yet unique designed features, two characteristics are particularly noteworthy: (1) similar to more sophisticated operations, he recirculates the water used to condense with the aid of an energy efficient pump and a brick and concrete constructed water tank …. as opposed to directing the water into a stream or otherwise discarding and thus arguably wasting it by enabling it to enter the water table; (2) his three stills are fueled by one firewood aperture which singularly heats the triumvirate of ollas. When the ollas are distilling at different stages he is able to simply move around the logs as he wishes.
 
Both Rodolfo and the younger José Alberto continue to innovate, their only constraint being insufficient revenue derived from mezcal sales for the realization of their evolving ideas. But no doubt over the ensuring years there will be more to come which distinguishes each of them from their fellow Oaxacan palenqueros. 
 
Alvin Starkman operates Mezcal Educational Excursions of Oaxaca (www.mezcaleducationaltours.com).
 
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