So there’s this friend of mine who lives in Sayulita, used to live in San Francisco, California, USA. Having fled the fast city life up there, he has been engaged this past eight or so years living the slower Sayulita life, which is to say, along with making a living by managing property, playing rock and roll drums, with his lovely wife Andrea raising a family (house, two kids, dogs, etc.), and generally behaving like a stand-up citizen, he has been on a spiritual or spirit-driven quest to explore the many mysteries of tequila. Or at least how to tell a good one from a bad one, and the difference between an Anejo and a Reposado. That’s the thing about Sayulita. You can take the time to explore these elemental mysteries.
His name is Gabriel Villarrubia, goes by Gabbi, and he has come forth herein to share his knowledge of tequila with us. Myself, I’m a wine drinker, which makes me something of a fish out of water here in beer and tequila-saturated Mexico—maybe that’s why I haven’t learned how to speak Spanish better than a stray dog!—but Gabbi, Argentine by birth, gringo by upbringing, Mexican by choice, fluent in Spanish, knows his agave and knows his tequila.
And his tattoos. You might note in the pictures that the guy sports a few. Many people in Sayulita have gone down the tattoo road, never looking back, but Senor Villarrubia has gone the tattoo highway, the tattoo expressway, the tattoo Milky Way. In Sayulita, you can manage property, seriously indulge your taste for tequila, raise a family, play the drums, and get your body tattooed from top to bottom.
But forget the tattoos, let’s get back to the tequila. There are basically three kinds of tequila: white, reposado, and anejo. White is the new brew, fresh from the vat, less than a month old. You see it as clear, like vodka. Two-month to one-year old tequila is reposado, or rested, and has taken on a pale golden tone and a hint of the smoky, woody flavor of whatever barrel it has been fermenting in. Anejo is over one year old, and like many aged liquors–bourbon, scotch and the like–anejo tequila has absorbed more deeply the character of its container.
With tequila, Gabbi would argue, this is not such a good thing. He, and many others, prefer the white, new stuff. As he described it, freely (mis)quoting a distiller he knows from his tequila blogging days, “White tequila is like a young woman, as pure as she can be. Reposado, she is beginning to put on her clothes and wear make-up, but you still know her and she still looks good. Anejo, she is fully dressed, and you’ve known her for a while, and yet you still admire her.” Tactfully, poetically stated, the implication being she is not exactly virginal. On the other hand, people (and liquors?) do learn certain tricks with age…
Let’s consider a couple of things that Professor Villarrubia pointed out to me. Just a few years ago, for most Americans, tequila meant two options: shooters with lime and salt, both flavors basically intended to kill the flavor of the bad or mediocre tequila, and to lend an air of authenticity to the proceedings; and Jose Cuervo Gold, the “gold” standard for American tequila forever, an impostor tequila posing as a premium liquor and offering killer hangovers as an afterthought to the killer margaritas into which it was poured in voluminous quantity. The killer hangovers came about, of course, because Cuervo Gold tequila is a “mixto” comprised of 50 per cent agave liquor, or tequila, and 50 per cent cane sugar liquor, which is to say, sugar. A shot of sugar is practically guaranteed to produce a hangover. And so-called “Gold” tequilas are always mixtos, while premium tequila is always 100 per cent Blue Weber agave, and nothing else. There are several hundred types of agave cactus, and many are used in the production of mezcal, but Blue Weber (the name comes from a botanist, Frederic Albert Constantin Weber, who first described the plant near the town of Tequila in 1902) and only Blue Weber is legally used in the production of the real deal, tequila.
All those other kinds of agave go into various types of mezcal, ranging from the very crude and effective raicilla, which will kick your ass from here to Guatemala with a few good gulps, to the new designer mezcals inhabiting the bar tops of posh restaurants all over Mexico and the USA. Gabbi shrugs them off. And basically shrugs off the reposados and the anejos as well, although he does like the Don Julio 70 which is a new concoction—a “clear” Anejo, which is oxymoronic, except that they have figured out a way to age it in white oak, then distill the color out, taking it back to clear, or white. What Gabbi likes is the clear stuff, white tequila. For those of you in search of the perfect tequila for shooting (not recommended, except for the immediacy of the buzz) or sipping (the way to go with good tequila or any fine liquor), the word is white, clear, not old but brand new. This is an alcohol that ages just fine, but is best in its youthful, virginal prime.
Which brings us to some suggestions from the professor, as to what to buy, and what to drink, and why. By the way, these are all tequilas which you can buy off the shelf in Sayulita.
Carallejo: comes in a tall, skinny blue bottle, runs around $20US per bottle, a high quality reposado for the price
Siete Leguas: around $25 per bottle, this is an excellent white tequila
Anejo 1800: $30, an superb high quality anejo
Don Julio 70: The science experiment—a clear anejo, as smooth as it gets, around $60-$70 per bottle and worth every centavo if you can afford it.
Patron: This is what gringos buy when they want to get fancy. It’s good, and its expensive, around $100 a bottle.
Dragones, on the other hand, runs around $300 per bottle, so if you want to burn your money buying tequila, there are plenty of options.
We would like to thank Gabbi for his time and insight, and Storm Richardson, proprietor, and Miguel the bartender, at the Sayulita Public House, for hosting the photo shoot on the rooftop, providing shots of elixir, and aiding in general ambience control. Don’t miss the Public House when you’re in town. The Public House is home to great beer, good food, good company, quality surf movies all the time, important sports events when they’re on, and, of course, fine tequila.
