Gone are the days of party shots of warm tequila. Today's tequilas and mezcals are meant to be sipped and savored, like scotch, and have become some of the most stylish drinks to sample at a cocktail lounge.
Three other south-of-the-border creations are creeping onto bar shelves: raicilla and bacanora, both made from agave, and sotol, a milder spirit produced from an agave cousin in northern Mexico. Like mezcal, most are still small-batch spirits made by artisan producers using generations-old methods, free of fancy gauges and industrial machinery.
If you're excited by mezcal, it's time to explore the worlds of raicilla, bacanora and sotol.
What distinguishes them from each other? For one, it's a matter of where, and how, the spirits are made. Mezcal, for instance, while primarily made in Oaxaca, must be made in one of seven states to be classified as such; similar rules exist for the others.
Sotol, unaggressive and sweet, is easier to find than bacanora or raicilla. Distilled mostly in the Mexican state of Chihuahua from a flowering plant called desert spoon (or sotol in Spanish), it's often imbibed in its homeland from a bull's horn, or cuerno. Depending on the terrain in which it's grown, its aroma and tastes can run anywhere from piney to grassy to earthy and spicy, says Shad Kvetko, co-owner of Dallas' Las Almas Rotas, an agave-focused bar near Fair Park.
Bacanora, a Sonora-based spirit distilled from an agave variety called Yaquiana, or Pacifica, is just starting to trickle into the U.S., Kvetko says. It's funky and occasionally briny, with an inherent sweetness perfect for sipping.
"Bacanora to me is quite complex," says Daniel Zapata of Santos y Pecadores, the tiny mezcaleria hidden within Uptown's Bowen House. "It's very floral, like pisco."
Meanwhile, raicilla, from the coast of Jalisco, is an older variation of mezcal: sweeter, fruitier, more herbaceous and sometimes funky, with an aroma evoking citrus yogurt or nail polish.
"The funkiness presents the most challenging aspect," Zapata says. "It's like overly fermented sweet tropical fruit. It's like an Islay [scotch] without the peat, but still with that Band-Aid quality."
Kvetko loves raicillas. One raicilla he encountered was distilled in a hollowed-out tree trunk. Another smells like bubblegum. "It really is all over the place," he says. "Some are fruity. Some are earthy. They're very idiosyncratic to the maker."
Both bars serve the spirits neat, in a small cup sometimes flanked by orange wedges and a sprinkling of chili powder or even sal de gusano, or "worm salt," made from a mix of chili powder, sea salt and ground roasted crickets or grasshoppers. Zapata's pours also come with a sangrita, the trusty sidekick to a straight agave shot, meant to complement its flavors and cleanse the palate.
It's mostly sotol you'll find in cocktails, a sign of both its delicate taste profile and relative affordability. Sotol cocktails have appeared on menus at Mexican Sugar in Plano, José in Highland Park and Bar Belmont in West Dallas. Here's how to make the agave gimlet at Jalisco Norte, a restaurant on Oak Lawn Avenue in Dallas:
Raicillas and bacanoras tend to be pricier; at Santos y Pecadores, a pour of La Venenosa raicilla, served with a cold, veggie-broth-like sangrita, will set you back more than $20. Consequently, and because their tastes are so unique, they demand to be served neat, though Las Almas Rotas' bar manager, Chris Dempsey, says he will roll out a bacanora cocktail in the spring.
"They're like aged Japanese whiskeys," Zapata says. "You just want to have them by themselves."
