• 18Apr

    Mezcal: it’s not your frat-boy tequila. Ancient, yet new on the American bar scene, it’s tequila’s stylish post-hipster, more adult cousin. Mezcal’s not sloshing about in shot glasses hidden behind a curtain of overpowering lime, but proudly shining, served neat (see: fine scotch) to showcase a depth and range of flavor unencountered in other agave-based spirits.

    As we know, mezcal and tequila are made from agave, a wide-ranging succulent in Mexico. The major difference between the two is the production method. The piña, or heart of the agave plant, is removed. It’s then roasted, slowly, underground. It’s buried in the earth, covered by hot stones – creating the signature smokiness. The resultant mash gets a special treatment; it is crushed by a stone pulled by a donkey. Then comes the distillation. Tequila, meanwhile, is baked, or more often, industrially processed, leaving in astringent flavors. Finally, mezcals traditionally comes from Oaxaca, where the agave plant is most common. However, like with fine wines (and Scotch), the terroir truly comes out in mezcals. The highly specific local soil imbues the plant with unique flavors, which is why mezcals are really a small-batch liquor.


    This is true for El Silencio, carried at just a few select restaurants and bars across the country, including the one at the Four Seasons in Georgetown. El Silencio is an artisanal mezcal, produced in San Baltazar Guelavila, Oaxaca. The family-run business is now nine generations strong. According to the website, El Silencio uses only “carefully selected 10-12 year old agaves… and the production does not involve any additives or industrial processes.”

    At the bar, master mixologist Torrence T. Swain poured us El Silencio’s two options: Joven and Espadín. Joven is an “ensamble” mezcal, a blend of three different agave plants: espadin, Mexicano, and tobasiche. This double-distilled blend is quite smooth, very different from what might be first expected. The nose is full of floral and vegetal notes, like jasmine and cucumber. The flavor is full of tea and lemon, and ends with a light, white pepper finish in the back of the throat. Joven is something of a welcome mat for mezcal, not too forceful, turning the page on mezcal drinking to provide context that it can be complex and intricate. It’s a perfect mezcal for sipping on a veranda, shaded from a hot tropical sun after a day in the agave fields.
    Espadín, as might be expected, is 100% espadín agave. It’s even smaller batch than Joven, from highly specific agave plants. “It’s ready to do the heavy lifting in a cocktail.” Strong and bold, it’s quite assertive on the palate with a significant bite. The nose is strongly vegetal, and flavor notes feature leather and earth, with a black pepper finish. It’s a more concentrated flavor, better for a mixologist to play with.

    And thus our mixologist tour guide took us down cocktail lane. We landed at the Conejo Loco (“crazy rabbit”), so named because of the mezcal spirit’s origin story related to a rabbit goddess. The mezcal, already a bit smoky, receives a shock of spice, infused with Fresno pepper. An addition of pomegranate juice adds sweetness, a squeeze of lime for citrus, and most spectacularly, it’s served with a sprig of rosemary, which adds an aromatic herbal element. Certainly a great way to use this spirit.

    Finally, we got a sneak peak of Ocho Cientos Blanco Sotol, also from Mexico. However, instead of agave, it’s handcrafted from the Sotol plant, also called desert spoon in English. It’s native to Chihuahua in the far north of Mexico and tastes nothing like tequila or mezcal. Incredibly smooth, intense, earthy, and herby. Salud!

    – ESC

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  • 03Dec

     

    This Tuesday, in my first adventure on behalf of DCfFüd, I attended Casa de Don Julio, a celebration of Don Julio Tequila’s 70th anniversary. This kickoff event, which begins a promotional tour showcasing Don Julio’s brand and introducing its new Don Julio 70 Tequila (more on that in a moment), was held in the way-far-west of Georgetown’s waterfront, in the future site of the restaurant/lounge Malmaison. Don Julio recruited local celebrity chef Malcolm Mitchell and mixologist Andy Seymour to plan a tequila-themed menu with cocktail pairings. But first, the tequila.

    After a refreshing “Punch de la Casa” (fruit juices, agave nectar, black tea, Don Julio 70, and mezcal) woke up our taste buds, we were seated for a brief lecture on the process of making tequila, from growing and harvesting the blue agave plant that makes it all possible to aging (or not aging) the beverage to create its three varieties: blanco (“white,” not aged), reposado (“rested,” or aged a few months) and anejo (aged one to three years). It was all enough to make a hard liquor aficionado like me marvel at the first tequila distillers, both for their ingenuity and their desperation to get a drink! And at the same time, it had me saying, “Bring on the tequila!”

    Here’s where things got interesting. Rather than working our way up from young blanco to the most aged extra anejo tequila, we were told to start with the anejo. Aged in oak barrels used for bourbon and Jack Daniels, it had the smoked, oaky flavor and vanilla-honey notes that make anejos popular among whiskey and Scotch drinkers such as myself (I keep a bottle of Patron Anejo in the cabinet). But here’s the rub: while older is better in the whiskey drinking world, the aging process deprives tequila, our tasting guide told us, of some of the flavors of the agave plant itself, which make tequila distinctive. From here, we tasted backward to the blanco: sharp, briny, with a heady evergreen flavor like the cactus juice it’s made from.

    All this set us up for the star of the evening: Don Julio 70 was designed as the best of both worlds, an aged tequila that maintains the flavors of the agave plant (although don’t ask me how; they were a bit sketchy on the details here). The 70 was light in color (they called it a “claro anejo”) and a pretty incredible fusion of the flavors of both young and old tequila. Finally, we tasted Don Julio 1942, the extra anejo first released in 2002 for the brand’s 60th. This was the exact sort of candy-flavored super-heady tequila that has endeared the spirit to brown liquor fans, but by this point, I was already won over by the 70 and its faithfulness to the blue agave plant (the real star of the evening). And I was ready to eat.

    First course from Chef Mitchell was a hamachi crudo with tequila vinaigrette and micro greens, paired with an “I-70 South”: Don Julio 70, mint, cilantro, jalapeno simple syrup, and grapefruit soda. Think fresh, fresh, fresh with a kick. I actually ate a micro green salad with sliced grapefruit and orange, as I have a mild fish allergy, but I tasted a bite of my wife’s hamachi, and the pairing was even better with the buttery fish.

    Next up was the main: anejo tequila and chipotle-glazed short ribs over manchego polenta. This dish was clearly going to be the star (short ribs, duh), and the smoky tequila plus smoky chipotle were terrific with the tender beef. The pairing was “Suave Agave,” a take on sangria with Don Julio Reposado, Malbec, and pomegranate juice. The tequila wasn’t as evident here against the big flavors of the wine and juice, but it was refreshing on the whole.

    Third course was dessert: a warm and fluffy “Mexican” bread pudding with reposado tequila glaze and agave vanilla ice cream. Yum. Alongside came a drink that was a dessert in itself: “Chocolate Mint Chip,” with Don Julio Anejo, Rumplemitz, rich hot chocolate, and whipped cream. No kidding about the hot chocolate being rich: you can’t hide the alcohol taste in a hot beverage without a heavy dose of cream. I’d rather have tasted the tequila’s flavors minus the mint liqueur, though.

    After dinner, the event morphed into a party, with passed hors d’oeuvres (highlight was a little flute of lukewarm gazpacho with tiny bits of calamari), more cocktails, and deejay Relevent. Before heading out, I grabbed what turned out to be my favorite of Andy Seymour’s creations, “Evergreen and Red,” which combined the anejo with agave nectar, pomegranate juice, and a rosemary sprig, as if to give a nice whiff of the evergreen-y blue agave, and perhaps taking a cue from our tasting to reconstruct the best flavors of tequila.

    My only complaint was that I couldn’t get a margarita with Don Julio 70, as, to me, that old standard is the perfect expression of what tequila’s flavor is all about. I guess I’ll have to buy a bottle and mix it myself! Cheers!

    Guest Writer:  Dan (DSR)

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